THE 
UNDERSTANDING    HEART 


Understanding  Heart 


BY 
SAMUEL   M.  CROTHERS 


BOSTON 

AMERICAN    UNITARIAN   ASSOCIATION 
1907 


COPYRIGHT  1903 
AMERICAN  UNITARIAN  ASSOCIATION 


INTRODUCTION 

WORDSWORTH    describes    the    man    of 
"understanding  heart."     His  thoughts 

"From    a    clear    fountain     flowing,    he    looks 

around 

And  seeks  for  good ;  and  finds  the  good  he 
seeks." 

He  is  no  mere  sentimentalist;  nor  is 
he  a  cold  rationalist.  He  believes  in  the 
instincts  of  his  own  heart;  yet  he  is 
anxious  to  preserve 

"  His  sanity  of  reason  not  impaired." 

He  has  reverence  for  inherited  faiths,  yet 
he  would  subject  them  to  that  scepticism 
through  which  alone  the  true  may  be  dis- 
tinguished from  the  false. 

There  are  those  whose  ideal  of  truth- 
seeking  is  that  of  a  heartless  understand- 


333913 


Introduction 

ing.  They  take  for  granted  that  they  are 
living  in  an  unfriendly  universe,  in  which 
the  affections  of  the  soul  meet  nothing 
but  disappointment.  They  seek  to  pre- 
pare themselves  for  clear  seeing  by  dis- 
crediting all  that  belongs  to  their  emo- 
tions. 

There  are  others  who  do  not  believe 
in  any  such  line  of  cleavage  between  the 
faculties  of  their  own  nature.  They  be- 
lieve in  themselves  as  profoundly  as 
they  believe  in  the  Universe.  They  be- 
lieve in  great  spiritual  ideals  of  love  and 
duty  and  worship.  In  these  they  trust 
primarily  on  the  testimony  of  their  own 
hearts ;  but  they  find  their  faith  stimulated 
and  sustained  by  their  experience.  To 
them  religion  is  not 

u  A  history  only  of  departed  things, 
Or  a  mere  fiction  of  what  never  was. 
For  the  discerning  intellect  of  man, 
When  wedded  to  this  goodly  universe 
In  love  and  holy  passion,  shall  find  these 
A  simple  produce  of  the  common  day." 


Introduction 

Those  who  have  come  to  this  point  of 
view  find  in  the  formal  creeds  only  sug- 
gestions, and  not  satisfactory  answers  to 
their  questions.  What  is  called  "syste- 
matic theology"  is  altogether  too  ambi- 
tious for  them.  They  are  anxious  to 
know  not  how  one  doctrine  may  be 
brought  into  logical  consistency  with 
another  doctrine,  but  rather  how  it  may 
fit  into  this  goodly  universe,  and  how  it 
may  interpret  the  happenings  of  the  com- 
mon day. 

To  minds  of  this  temper  the  present 
organization  of  religion  in  our  churches 
seems  open  to  criticism.  The  criticism  is 
friendly  and  hopeful,  but  radical  in  its 
character.  The  great  impression  is  that 
of  vast  resources  that  have  not  been 
touched,  mighty  powers  that  are  allowed 
to  nin  to  waste.  We  talk  of  man  as  a 
spiritual  being ;  but  how  little  of  his  spirit- 
ual energy  is  recognized,  while  still  less  of 
it  is  utilized  !  Religious  teachers  seem  to 
be  afraid  of  religion  when  it  manifests 


Vll 


Introduction 

itself  in  unconventional  forms.  We  have 
not  yet  succeeded  in  organizing  all  the 
forces  of  what  we  call  the  higher  life. 

The  problems  of  the  understanding 
heart  are  educational.  The  religious 
nature  tries  to  understand  itself  and  its 
real  place  in  the  universe.  Now  the  uni- 
verse is  not  a  fixed  quantity.  It  is  con- 
tinually changing.  No  one  form  of 
thought  can  express  its  reality.  The  man 
thinking  must  be  free  to  follow  the  new 
developments  as  well  as  to  chronicle  the 
old. 

The  real  problems  are  those  which 
grow  out  of  necessity  of  continual  read- 
justment. How  may  our  ideals  be  ad- 
justed to  the  actual  conditions  which  we 
meet?  How  may  our  religious  inheri- 
tance be  harmonized  with  our  fresh  expe- 
riences ?  How  may  the  institutions  which 
have  purely  spiritual  ends  be  adjusted  to 
those  which  serve  our  material  welfare? 
How  may  we  at  the  same  time  live  ac- 
cording to  the  rules  of  sound  reason  and 


Introduction 

according  to  the  inspirations  of  religious 
faith  ? 

Such  questions  come  to  us  all.  In  the 
following  chapters  I  have  taken  for  granted 
that  there  is  need  of  readjustment,  intel- 
lectually and  spiritually,  if  religion  is  to 
hold  its  own.  This  readjustment,  how- 
ever, can  be  no  merely  formal  one.  It 
must  come  through  the  multitudes  of  men 
and  women  who  are  doing  their  work  and 
entering  into  all  joyous  activities  with  an 
understanding  heart.  It  is  through  them 
that  the  religion  of  the  world  is  being  re- 
organized. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I.      METHODS  OF  TEACHING      .      .  3 

II.     THE  SENSE  OF  VALUES    .     .     *  23 

III.  SYMBOLS .  37 

IV.  LITERATURE  AND  MORALS  .     .  53 
V.     WORK  AND  WORSHIP      ...  75 

VI.     THE  HIGHER  INTELLIGENCE      .  97 

VII.     MORAL  DISCIPLINE      .     .     .     .  115 

VIII.     ON  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE  131 

IX.      OUR  HISTORIC  INHERITANCE     .  147 

X.     How  RELIGION  is   ORGANIZING 

ITSELF 167 


I 

Methods  of  Teaching 


METHODS  OF  TEACHING 

THE  church  and  the  school-house 
have  always  stood  near  one  another.  At 
one  time  the  school-house  stood  under 
the  shadow  of  the  church.  The  whole 
process  of  education  was  controlled  by  ec- 
clesiastical ideals.  To-day  the  relative 
positions  have  been  reversed. 

The  theory  of  the  school  has  been  en- 
larged, and  its  methods  have  been  revo- 
lutionized. The  church  has,  however, 
responded  only  slowly,  and  under  com- 
pulsion, to  the  influences  of  the  times. 
The  result  is  that  there  is  a  strained  re- 
lation between  the  two  institutions  which 
stand  for  the  development  of  the  com- 
plete man. 

The  young  men  and  women  who  grad- 
uate from  our  schools  find  many  of  the 
doctrines  of  the  church  foreign  to  their 
3 


The  Understanding  Heart 

thoughts.  It  is  not  that  they  actively  deny 
them:  it  is  rather  that  they  seem  to  be- 
long to  a  different  world.  The  conclu. 
sions  rest  in  the  air,  and  have  nothing 
corresponding  to  them  in  actual  experi- 
ence. 

The  same  difficulty  is  experienced  in 
attitude  of  the  professed  teachers  of  re- 
ligion. The  decrease  in  the  number  of 
candidates  for  the  ministry  in  all  our  col- 
leges is  no  accident.  It  is  a  part  of  the 
conflict  between  the  present  condition  of 
the  church  and  the  existing  state  of  secular 
education. 

A  young  man  with  a  spiritual  nature 
and  with  a  genuine  ambition  for  human 
helpfulness  goes  to  college  with  the  inten- 
tion of  fitting  himself  for  what  he  consid- 
ers the  most  sacred  calling  in  the  world. 
It  is  a  great  ideal  that  inspires  him.  He 
wishes  to  give  himself  to  the  best  possible 
work,  and  he  is  in  no  mood  to  tolerate 
the  "  second  best." 

In  the  college  he  meets  men  who  are 

4 


Methods  of  Teaching 

devoted  to  the  disinterested  search  for 
truth.  He  becomes  familiar  with  the 
habits  of  grave  and  severe  study.  He 
meets  men  whose  callings  require  no  apol- 
ogy, so  obviously  are  they  ministering  to 
real  needs.  These  men  go  from  the  col- 
lege to  the  professional  school  with  no 
break  in  their  line  of  activity.  It  is  all 
made  of  one  piece.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  student  of  theology  seems  to  belong 
to  a  different  order.  His  special  studies 
seem  to  be  remote  and  unrelated  to  the 
things  he  cares  for.  Above  all,  they  do 
not  seem  to  be  carried  on  with  that  free- 
dom and  candor  that  he  has  learned  to 
consider  essential.  The  very  term  "free 
thought"  as  used  in  theological  circles, 
sometimes  as  a  term  of  reproach  and 
sometimes  defiantly  as  a  party  cry,  seems 
strange  to  him.  What  other  kind  of 
thought  can  there  be  but  free  thought  ? 

If  he  enters  the  ministerial  profession, 
the  same  kind  of  questions  await  him. 
He  is  to  teach  religion ;  but  what  does 

5 


The  Understanding  Heart 

that  mean  ?  Is  there  a  body  of  definitely 
ascertained  facts  to  be  promulgated  ?  If 
so,  what  is  it  ?  Or  does  spiritual  culture, 
like  physical  culture,  mean  the  develop- 
ment of  certain  powers  in  the  individual  ? 

The  main  difficulty  lies  not  in  doctrinal 
results,  but  in  the  methods  by  which  any 
results  are  achieved.  The  church  has 
not  yet  shaken  itself  free  from  the  tram- 
mels of  the  old  scholasticism.  It  is  at- 
tempting to  teach  religion  as  nothing  else 
is  now  taught  in  a  good  school. 

What  was  the  characteristic  of  scholasti- 
cism ?  We  may  say  that  it  was  concerned 
with  the  circumference  of  any  subject 
rather  than  with  its  centre.  Its  chief  em- 
phasis lay  in  definition.  Shakespeare  de- 
scribed it  in  a  sentence  :  "  Define,  define, 
well-educated  infant." 

To  put  a  thought  into  words,  and  then 
to  subject  the  words  to  minute  examina- 
tion, to  distinguish  one  form  of  words 
from  another,  and  to  draw  inferences 
which  themselves  depended  solely  on 
6 


Methods  of  Teaching 

verbal  definitions, —  this  was  an  exercise  for 
nimble  wits.  The  logical  faculty  grew 
abnormally  acute ;  but  there  was  little  in- 
quiry as  to  the  correspondence  between 
these  words  and  the  actual  experience  of 
mankind.  It  was  as  if  the  mind  were  in- 
dependent of  anything  outside  itself. 

Sir  Philip  Sidney  contrasts  the  method 
of  the  philosopher  with  that  of  the  poet. 
The  philosophers,  he  says,  "go,  casting 
largess  as  they  go  of  definitions  and  dis- 
tinctions," while  the  poet  "  beginneth  not 
with  obscure  definitions,  .  .  .  but  he  com- 
eth  with  a  tale  that  holdeth  children  from 
play  and  old  men  from  the  chimney 
corner."  These  endless  distinctions  and 
definitions  formed  a  part  of  what  Milton 
called  "  the  barbarous  ignorance  of  the 
schools." 

The  very  word  "scholastic"  recalls 
what  the  schools  once  were.  But,  when 
we- go  to  the  best  schools,  to-day,  we  find 
that  the  method  is  much  nearer  that  of 
Sir  Philip  Sidney's  poet  than  that  of 


The  Understanding  Heart 

his  formal  philosopher.  The  teacher  be- 
gins not  with  an  abstract  definition,  but 
with  the  thing  itself.  The  pupil  is 
trained  to  observe,  to  compare,  to  appreci- 
ate. The  whole  subject  is  not  forced 
upon  him.  He  takes  only  so  much  as  he 
is  prepared  for,  and  goes  on  from  one 
partial  view  to  another.  The  point  is 
that  it  is  a  view,  and  not  merely  a  hear- 
say report  which  is  given  him. 

This  change  in  the  method  of  teaching 
corresponds  to  an  advance  in  psychology. 
The  old  psychology  treated  the  mind  as 
if  it  were  an  object  capable  of  exact  defini- 
tion. There  was  just  so  much  of  it,  and 
it  could  be  bounded  as  one  might  bound 
a  country.  The  old  English  ballad, "  My 
mind  to  me  a'kingdom  is,"  expressed  the 
idea  literally. 

Here  is  the  child,  the  heir  to  a  king- 
dom. That  kingdom  is  his  by  divine 
right,  but  it  must  be  surveyed  and  its 
boundaries  fixed.  The  kingdom  has  its 
separate  provinces.  The  different  func- 
8 


Methods  of  Teaching 

tions  of  the  mind  were  spoken  of  as  if 
they  were  absolutely  definite  things. 
There  was  department  of  the  understand- 
ing, the  province  of  the  will,  and  so  on : 
these  were  set  down  and  distinguished  and 
divided  one  from  another. 

The  modern  psychologist  knows  noth- 
ing of  this  formal  kingdom.  He  is  not 
even  sure  that  any  particular  person  is 
heir  to  it  all.  He  is  not  very  careful 
about  the  cc  spheres  of  influence "  which 
are  supposed  to  belong  to  any  particular 
faculty.  He  is  rather  concerned  with  the 
states  of  consciousness,  and  these  states 
of  consciousness  are  always  changing. 
When  he  comes  to  consider  these  states  of 
consciousness,  he  sees  that  in  every  state 
of  consciousness  there  is  one  focal  point 
and  there  is  an  ill-defined  margin.  When 
he  speaks  of  "  the  field  of  consciousness," 
he  no  longer  speaks  as  if  it  were  a  field 
upon  the  earth  that  may  be  defined  and 
fenced  off:  it  is  rather  like  the  magnetic 
field.  When  he  speaks  of  the  coherence 
9 


The  Understanding  Heart 

of  ideas,  he  is  no  longer  thinking  of  a 
fixed  and  inevitable  relation.  It  is  a  re- 
lation which  is  dependent  on  the  forces 
active  at  the  moment.  It  is  more  like 
the  coherer  which  belongs  to  Marconi's 
system  of  wireless  telegraphy.  The  little 
bits  of  metal  filings  are  separate.  Then 
from  afar  comes  a  mysterious  influence, 
and  the  minute  particles  come  together 
and  form  an  electric  circuit.  Then  they 
are  shaken  apart  again,  until  with  the  new 
message  they  once  more  come  together. 
So  under  successive  impulses  the  mind  is 
continually  being  rearranged.  The  centre 
of  interest  is  all  the  time  changing. 

Modern  education  rests  upon  this  vital 
conception  of  the  dynamic  character  of 
the  mind.  The  teacher  does  not  think 
of  a  faculty  called  the  understanding 
being  at  work  while  the  affections  are  not 
enlisted  and  the  imagination  is  dormant. 
Thinking  is  something  different  from  that. 
The  whole  mind  is  centred  upon  one 
point.  The  more  complete  the  concen- 

10 


Methods  of  Teaching 

tration,  the  greater  will  be  the  accomplish- 
ment. 

In  the  teaching  of  religion,  a  revolution 
is  effected  when  we  come  to  this  idea  that 
we  are  dealing  primarily  with  states  of 
consciousness  and  centres  of  interest.  Re- 
ligion is  not  a  subject  to  be  formally  de- 
fined :  it  is  a  great  experience  into  which 
we  may  enter.  The  dogmatist  has  his 
thought  fixed  upon  the  circumference,  the 
outer  edge  of  religion.  He  is  jealous  of 
all  encroachments :  he  is  always  eager  to 
defend  the  frontiers.  He  is  ready  to  tell 
just  what  is  the  holy  faith  which  it  is 
necessary  for  every  man  to  believe. 

Catechetical  instruction  is  based  on  this 
idea.  It  takes  for  granted  that  there  is  a 
precise  and  sufficient  answer  for  every 
question.  "  What  is  God  ? "  it  asks,  and 
the  reply  is  couched  in  language  that  may 
satisfy  the  metaphysicians.  The  metes 
and  bounds  of  the  Divine  Nature  are 
fixed,  and  the  limits  of  human  responsi- 
bility are  indicated.  The  last  things  are 
ii 


The  Understanding  Heart 

put  first,  and  the  abstract  formula  pre- 
pared before  there  is  anything  to  put 
into  it. 

The  child  can  be  taught  to  repeat  the 
answers  correctly.  The  forms  of  thought 
may  be  accepted,  and  the  tradition  of  the 
church  may  be  handed  down.  But  is  this 
teaching  religion  ?  Does  the  child  learn 
how  to  think  seriously  and  freely  upon 
the  greatest  subjects  of  human  concern  ? 
Is  not  the  effect  rather  to  deaden  the  nat- 
ural feeling  of  wonder  and  curiosity  with 
which  he  might  otherwise  look  out  on  the 
world  ?  Premature  ideas  have  been  forced 
upon  him,  and  his  own  ideas  have  not 
been  allowed  to  ripen. 

A  true  method  of  religious  education 
begins  with  the  things  near  at  hand,  and 
which  already  are  of  vital  interest.  The 
teacher  takes  advantage  of  the  circum- 
stances of  the  child's  own  life  and  of  his 
natural  relations  to  awaken  interest  in  all 
higher  things.  It  is  taken  for  granted 
that  he  is  already  a  worshipper.  There  is 

12 


Methods  of  Teaching 

something  to  which  he  looks  up  with  ad- 
miration. This  "  trick  of  looking  up  "  is 
itself  a  religious  experience.  It  is  look- 
ing God-ward.  One  object  after  another 
is  presented  to  his  view.  Each  is  a  sym- 
bol only,  but  it  is  a  symbol  of  the  highest 
reality.  The  symbols  become  more  spir- 
itual, more  profoundly  ethical,  as  he  grows 
toward  maturity ;  but  there  is  no  break 
from  the  beginning  of  the  process  to  the 
end.  At  no  time  does  he  arrive  at  a 
complete  definition  of  God ;  and  yet "  him- 
self from  God  he  cannot  free,"  and  he 
is  continually  learning  more  and  more  in 
regard  to  his  relations  to  Him. 

The  fixing  of  attention  upon  the  centre 
rather  than  on  the  circumference  relieves 
the  teacher,  also,  of  his  chief  embarrass- 
ment in  dealing  with  mature  minds.  It  is 
noteworthy  that  in  the  last  generation  the 
chief  anxiety  of  the  defenders  of  religious 
faith  was  in  regard  to  the  limits  of  hu- 
man knowledge.  Take  that  word  "  agnos- 
ticism "  which  was  accepted  as  a  denial  of 
13 


The  Understanding  Heart 

the  possibility  of  religion.  Agnosticism 
is  simply  the  assertion  of  our  ignorance 
upon  certain  points.  We  are  all  agnos- 
tics in  regard  to  some  questions.  There 
are  many  things  which  we  are  willing  to 
confess  lie  beyond  our  present  knowledge, 
even,  perhaps,  beyond  our  powers  of 
knowing.  But  what  of  it  ? 

The  man  of  science  frankly  confesses 
that  he  has  no  answer  to  many  most  im- 
portant questions  in  regard  to  the  physi- 
cal world.  But  this  does  not  paralyze  his 
effort.  His  mind  is  intently  fixed  upon 
the  things  which  he  already  knows,  and 
upon  those  which  immediately  invite  him. 
The  unanswered  or  unanswerable  ques- 
tions are  on  the  margin  of  his  conscious- 
ness. They  can  wait. 

Such  a  wholesome  attitude  must  be 
that  of  the  teacher  of  religion  who  adopts 
the  same  method.  He,  too,  has  his  un- 
answered questions ;  but  he,  too,  has  his 
own  work,  and  his  work  steadies  him. 
He  is  not  troubled  by  the  thing  which 
14 


Methods  of  Teaching 

he  does  not  know  :  he  is  too  much  in- 
terested in  those  discoveries  in  the  spirit- 
ual life  which  have  been  made  or  which 
are  immediately  before  him. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  "  reconcile  Science 
and  Religion."  The  attempt  to  do  so  im- 
plies that  one  has  a  complete  mastery  of 
both.  But  one  question  after  another,  as 
it  comes  within  the  sphere  of  our  real  in- 
terests, may  be  treated  with  a  scientific  de- 
sire for  truth,  and  with  a  desire  to  get 
from  it  its  religious  values.  As  we  go  on 
in  this  way,  we  find  that  they  need  no 
reconciliation,  but  are  seen  to  belong  to 
one  great  order. 

In  like  manner  the  practical  problems 
of  the  church  are  simplified  when  we  ap- 
proach them  from  the  standpoint  of  the 
enlightened  teacher.  We  hear  complaints 
of  the  indifference  of  various  classes  in  the 
community  to  religion.  We  hear  com- 
plaints of  the  young  people,  of  business 
men,  of  workingmen,  and  the  rest.  It 
is  taken  for  granted  that  the  need  is  for 
15 


The  Understanding  Heart 

some  sensational  methods  by  which  they 
may  be  startled  into  attention. 

But  is  not  the  problem  really  an  educa- 
tional one?  Here  are  great  subjects  in 
which  many  persons,  we  say,  are  not  in- 
terested. 

Why  should  they  be  interested  in 
them  ?  We  are  not  surprised  to  learn 
that  the  average  workingman  is  not  in- 
terested in  the  latest  discoveries  in  Baby- 
lonia or  in  the  higher  mathematics.  They 
are  remote  from  his  affairs. 

But  he  is  interested  in  his  own  welfare, 
the  welfare  of  his  family  and  of  his  neigh- 
bors. He  is  capable  of  being  profoundly 
stirred  by  a  struggle  through  which  he 
may  be  freed  from  unjust  conditions.  He 
has  his  ideals  and  his  hopes.  Here  is  a 
vital  system  of  interests :  the  problem  of 
the  teacher  of  religion  is  to  connect  these 
with  still  larger  and  more  vital  interests. 
The  man  already  has  a  sense  of  justice. 
Let  the  just  thing  he  already  recognizes  be 
the  means  of  gaining  larger  and  still  larger 

16 


Methods  of  Teaching 

views.  He  already  loves  something  and 
admires  something.  Here  is  the  begin- 
ning of  all  true  worship.  Let  it  grow 
from  more  to  more. 

The  changes  that  are  taking  place  in  all 
the  relations  of  life  demand  a  kind  of  re- 
ligious education  that  shall  fit  men  to 
recognize  the  spiritual  possibilities  of  the 
new  world.  They  must  be  able  to  deal 
with  the  complex  as  well  as  with  the 
simple  forms  of  goodness.  The  revo- 
lutionary forces  must  be  used  as  well  as 
those  which  are  conservative,  if  any  great 
thing  is  to  be  accomplished. 

Mr.  Benjamin  Kidd,  in  his  book 
on  "  Western  Civilization,"  has  a  phrase 
which  is  illuminating.  He  says  that  the 
permanency  of  any  power  in  the  Western 
world  is  dependent  on  the  degree  of  its 
"projected  efficiency."  In  a  finished 
civilization  it  might  be  enough  to  deal 
wisely  with  what  had  already  been  accom- 
plished ;  but  in  a  progressive  civilization 
the  important  factor  is  not  the  past,  but 
17 


The  Understanding  Heart 

the  immediate  future.  The  ability  to  see 
what  is  impending,  or  even,  when  we  can- 
not see,  to  grapple  with  it  instinctively, 
is  that  which  insures  survival.  The  vital 
question  is  not,  How  correctly  have  we 
interpreted  the  past?  but,  How  far  have 
we  projected  ourselves  into  the  future  ? 

This  is  the  task  of  the  trained  intelli- 
gence. It  is  prepared  to  make  those  suc- 
cessive readjustments  which  are  necessary. 

Christianity  has  more  than  once  been 
threatened  with  extinction,  and  it  has  sur- 
vived through  its  power  of  adaptation.  At 
the  time  when  the  Roman  civilization  per- 
ished, it  seemed  that  the  Christian  faith 
must  fall  with  it.  It  was  saved  through 
the  projected  efficiency  of  certain  mission- 
aries who,  in  the  forests  of  the  north,  were 
laboring  with  the  future  masters  of  the 
world.  The  Roman  legions  could  not 
prevent  the  progress  of  the  hosts  of  bar- 
barians ;  but  the  barbarians  themselves 
were  converted. 

We  need  an  education  that  shall  teach 

18 


Methods  of  Teaching 

us  to  deal  "justly,  skilfully,  and  magnan- 
imously," not  only  with  the  powers  that 
be,  but  also  with  the  powers  that  are  to 
be.  We  must  meet  them  more  than  half- 
way. 

Who  are  to  be  the  rulers  of  America  in 
the  next  generation  ?  Where  are  they 
living  ?  What  are  they  thinking  ?  What 
are  their  dreams?  The  new  multitudes 
pouring  into  our  land,  the  struggle  of 
workingmen,  the  changed  conditions  of 
social  life, —  all  these  are  central  to  the 
teacher  of  religion. 

There  is  the  call  for  more  thoughtful- 
ness  ;  but  it  is  not  to  be  an  academic  ex- 
ercise, but  a  serious  grappling  with  living 
issues.  The  result  will  be  not  a  sys- 
tematic body  of  divinity,  but  a  clearer  and 
more  inspiring  outlook  upon  the  actual 
world. 

"  Large  elements  in  order  brought, 

And  tracts  of  calm  from  tempests  made, 
And  world-wide  fluctuations  swayed 
In  vassal  tides  that  follow  thought." 
19 


II 

The  Sense  of  Values 


THE  SENSE  OF  VALUES 

ONE  great  difference  between  the  mod- 
ern school  and  the  ordinary  church  lies 
in  the  temper  with  which  questions  of  fact 
are  approached.  The  teacher  may  be 
insufficiently  prepared,  but  at  least  he  is 
not  afraid  of  his  subject.  He  does  not 
suspect  it  of  any  sinister  designs  against 
his  peace  of  mind.  There  it  is  :  his  only 
business  is  to  try  to  understand  it. 

On  the  other  hand,  one  is  conscious  on 
entering  the  church  of  a  certain  attitude 
of  suspicion.  The  fact  may  be  danger- 
ous :  it  may  lead  to  unwelcome  conclu- 
sions. Serious  examination  is  discouraged 
as  being  only  "  destructive  criticism." 

The  cause    of  this    attitude  is  not   far 

to  seek.      The  teacher  of  religion   finds 

himself  in  an  ambiguous  position  because 

he  has  also  allowed  himself  to  be  placed 

23 


The  Understanding  Heart 

in  the  position  of  the  advocate  of  a  creed. 
He  is  to  preserve  the  faith  which  was 
"  once  delivered  to  the  saints."  He  feels 
that  the  sanctities  of  the  past  are  in  his 
keeping,  and  thinks,  "  beyond  his  sentry, 
beat  the  crystal  walls  in  danger."  A  cer- 
tain intellectual  timidity  is  the  inevitable 
result  of  this  false  attitude. 

The  first  necessity  in  a  sound  religious 
training  is  such  a  discipline  as  will  release 
the  mind  from  all  such  timidity  and  teach 
a  noble  freedom.  One  must  overcome 
the  morbid  fear  of  error  if  he  would  en- 
gage in  a  manly  search  for  truth. 

To  do  this,  we  must  free  ourselves  from 
the  superstition  that  in  the  great  days  of 
the  past  there  were  forces  at  work  which 
are  now  exhausted.  If  that  were  so,  then 
the  problem  of  religion  would  be  simply 
that  of  the  preservation  of  a  limited  treas- 
ure. We  are  freed  when  we  realize  that 
there  is  more  where  these  good  things 
came  from. 

A  timid  piety  sees  the  things  which 
24 


The  Sense  of  Values 

have  already  been  accomplished,  the  re- 
sults of  the  experiments  of  the  past.  It 
fears  to  lose  them  in  some  new  experi- 
ment. It  advises  a  parsimony  of  effort. 
The  lessons  it  draws  from  experience  are 
prudential.  It  is  wise  only  in  avoiding 
mistakes.  It  says :  "  Here  is  a  place 
where  God  may  be  found.  Here  is  a 
well-trodden  path  along  which  the  saints 
have  walked.  As  for  the  rest  of  the 
world,  it  is  full  of  pitfalls :  we  know  not 
whether  it  be  God's  world  or  not." 
There  is  here  the  courage  of  established 
convictions,  but  not  the  finer  courage  of 
fresh  conviction. 

Now  behind  that  advice  there  is  a  lack 
of  faith,  and  a  false  philosophy.  A  man 
sees  the  good  that  is  already,  here  and 
there,  produced  through  human  effort. 
He  believes  in  the  result ;  but  he  has  not 
learned,  as  yet,  that  larger  faith  in  the 
ceaseless  effort  which  has  produced  that 
result,  and  he  has  not  yet  learned  that 
deep  confidence  that  finds  in  this  universe 
25 


The  Understanding  Heart 

an  inexhaustible  supply  of  spiritual  power. 
It  is  true  that  there  is  not  a  single  religion 
that  has  not  some  truth  in  it,  not  one  but 
has  said  to  self-weary  men,  "  Ye  must  be 
born  again,"  not  one  but  has  in  some  way 
quickened  the  soul,  in  some  way  given 
access  to  the  infinite.  That  is  true,  if  in- 
deed there  be  an  infinite  world ;  that  is 
true,  if  indeed  there  be  a  God  behind  all 
we  see.  We  cannot  help  but  touch  Him. 
We  cannot  help  finding  Him  in  some 
way  when  we  earnestly  seek.  That  justi- 
fies the  struggle  of  the  past,  but  it  also 
justifies  the  new  struggle  of  the  present. 
It  justifies  the  man  who  is  willing  to  make 
his  life  a  sublime  adventure,  the  man  who 
is  willing  to  take  a  step  that  to  his  knowl- 
edge, at  least,  has  never  been  taken  before. 
He  also  is  in  God's  world.  He  also  shall 
find  something,  even  though  it  be  not  al- 
together that  which  he  has  dreamed  of  at 
the  beginning. 

The  world  goes  on  not  because  there  is 
an  exact  correspondence  between  a  certain 
26 


The  Sense  of  Values 

definite  body  of  good  and  a  definite  num- 
ber of  those  who  seek  for  good,  because 
every  aim  is  reached,  because  every  life 
puts  forth  its  strength  wisely  and  pru- 
dently :  the  world  goes  on  because  the 
seeds  of  life  are  everywhere  sown  broad- 
cast, because  out  of  multitudes  of  failures 
here  and  there  is  a  supreme  achievement. 
"  Thou  canst  not  know  which  will  perish, 
this  or  that."  What  each  one  of  us  can 
know  is,  that  the  world  goes  on,  our  lives 
go  on,  because  in  human  hearts  there  is  an 
infinitude  answering  to  the  infinitude  that 
is  without  us, —  the  infinitude  of  courage, 
of  love,  of  desire.  The  one  thing  which 
we  ask  for  in  each  new  generation  is  not 
wisdom,  but  the  courage  and  strength  out 
of  which  alone  wisdom  comes. 

Among  the  gulches  of  our  Western 
mountains  one  may  still  see  the  placer 
miner  at  his  work  in  his  wasteful,  crude 
way,  extracting  the  gold  from  the  gravel 
of  the  streams  ;  and  all  day  long  he  stands 
by  the  sluice,  shovelling  in  the  gravel  and 


The  Understanding  Heart 

seeing  it  washed  away  by  the  water.  All 
day  he  is  engaged  in  that  apparently  use- 
less work,  not  selecting,  but  laboring  on 
stolidly,  continuously.  Only  after  the 
day's  work,  perhaps  after  several  days' 
work,  does  he  see  what  he  has  done. 
Then  he  examines  the  riffles  over  which 
the  water  and  the  gravel  have  been  flow- 
ing, and  there  he  finds  a  few  grains  of  gold 
which  reward  his  labor,  selected  not  by 
his  own  personal  care,  but  by  that  very 
force  to  which  he  intrusts  it. 

That  is  the  only  way  any  man  can 
work,  working  with  a  certain  carelessness 
of  effort,  but  working  on  because  he  in- 
trusts what  he  does  to  some  great  con- 
stant power  which  is  all  the  time  selecting 
the  thing  that  is  good  and  finding  in  that 
good  something  permanent,  while  the 
rest  goes  for  naught.  A  man  has  not  yet 
learned  to  live  in  the  world  who  has  not 
learned  to  trust  some  such  selective  power, 
to  look  on  without  regret  while  much 
that  for  the  moment  seemed  of  worth 
28 


The  Sense  of  Values 

becomes  a  thing  of  naught  and  is  for- 
gotten. Then,  when  the  day's  work  is 
over,  that  which  is  worth  preserving  is 
preserved.  He  trusts  himself  to  the 
eternal  power  with  which  he  works.  And 
it  is  altogether  false  and  misleading  when 
yesterday's  sifted  gold  is  compared  with 
the  gravel  of  to-day,  yesterday's  achieve- 
ment with  the  imperfectness  of  to-day's 
effort. 

The  only  thing,  after  all,  that  we  learn 
from  experience,  the  only  thing  that  we 
can  hand  down  at  last  to  those  who 
come  after,  is  the  sense  of  value.  We 
tell  our  children  it  is  only  the  gold  that 
makes  the  labor  worth  while,  that  it  is 
only  the  excellent  thing  that  is  perma- 
nent, and  we  can  make  them  seek  that 
excellent  thing  and  find  their  satisfac- 
tion in  it.  This  sense  of  values,  intellect- 
ual and  spiritual,  which  we  acquire,  comes 
from  the  working  of  laws  that  are  beyond 
our  will.  We  speak  of  certain  events 
which  are  memorable,  that  stand  out  for- 
29 


The  Understanding  Heart 

ever  in  human  history  and,  indeed,  make 
all  the  history  that  we  remember.  They 
were  not  necessarily  the  things  most  strik- 
ing at  the  time, —  these  things  that  are 
memorable.  We  forget  the  sordidness, 
the  futility,  the  absurdities  of  the  time, 
the  little  men  who  in  their  own  genera- 
tion passed  for  great.  These  men  pass 
into  oblivion!  They  did  nothing  which 
the  next  generation  can  remember.  Here 
and  there  names  abide,  becoming  more 
great,  looming  in  more  heroic  proportions 
as  the  ages  pass.  They  are  the  names 
which  the  world  cannot  forget, —  cannot 
forget  because  they  are  linked  eternally 
with  great  ideals  and  aspirations.  They 
become  a  vital  part  of  the  heritage  of 
mankind,  not  because  some  past  day  was 
holier  than  this  or  some  other  age  really 
braver  than  this,  but  only  because  the 
brave  men  and  brave  deeds  are  remem- 
bered, and  the  time-servers  are  forgotten. 
We  say  that  it  takes  time  for  causes  and 
tendencies  to  become  clear,  so  that  we 

3° 


The  Sense  of  Values 

can  see  the  great  moral  principle  behind 
them,  that  we  in  our  day  are  confused,  we 
have  no  clear  compelling  motive,  no  call  for 
manliness  and  for  sacrifices.  Was  there 
ever  a  time  when  it  was  not  so?  Was 
there  ever  a  time  when  common  men  were 
not  tempted  to  think  that  gain  is  godli- 
ness, ever  a  time  when  the  pettiness  of 
the  day  did  not  tend  to  hide  the  clear 
shining  of  eternal  truth  ?  But  at  all  times 
there  were  some  who  did  remain  loyal, 
loyal  to  their  own  ideals.  There  were  al- 
ways some  who  chose  the  unpopular  cause 
because  it  seemed  to  them  true.  And 
then  the  days  pass,  the  transitory  things 
fade  away,  and  these  causes  and  these 
souls  that  had  been  in  cc  the  way  everlast- 
ing "  stand  out  clear  and  strong  as  wisdom 
is  justified  of  her  children. 

If  we  could  but  see  this  simple  law  of 
nature,  if  we  could  but  believe  in  that 
eternal  justice  through  which  that  which 
is  real  abides  and  that  which  is  the  nature 
of  pretence  vanishes,  our  lives  would  be 
31 


The  Understanding  Heart 

simplified.  Then  should  we  look  at  the 
new  question  not  as  something  that  dis- 
turbs the  old  order,  but  as  a  part  of  that 
order.  Always  the  souls  that  have  sought 
God  have  found  him  according  to  the  meas- 
ure of  their  seeking.  Always  through  the 
earnest  desire  has  come  such  achievement 
as  the  world  has  known.  The  question  of 
old  and  new,  of  the  tried  and  the  untried, 
does  not  enter  in.  Every  loyal  obedience 
to  the  inner  call  of  duty,  every  attempt 
at  speaking  bravely  the  thing  that  is 
within  one's  own  heart,  every  attempt  to 
utter  kindness  and  good  will,  brings  us  into 
connection  with  the  whole  history  of  the 
upward  movement  of  the  world.  So  have 
good  men  and  women  been  doing  from 
the  beginning,  and  all  our  heritage  is  but 
the  result  of  their  effort.  If  to  us  there 
comes  the  need  of  meeting  a  new  situa- 
tion, speaking  in  the  new  accent,  making 
for  the  time  a  new  emphasis,  we  are  simply 
following  out  that  universal  law  through 
which  the  world  grows  more  and  more, 
32 


The  Sense  of  Values 

though  men  die  and  fail.  A  new  com- 
mandment speaks  to  us.  When  we  obey 
it,  we  find  that  it  is  the  old  commandment 
which  we  have  heard  from  the  beginning. 
One  who  thus  faces  life  has  no  fear  of 
putting  forth  to  the  full  all  the  power  that 
is  in  him.  The  great  mistake  of  the 
world  has  never  come  through  too  much 
effort,  through  too  great  ideals.  The 
world  takes  care  of  itself.  The  world 
cannot  be  moved  by  mere  wilfulness ;  and 
that  which  belongs  to  our  wilfulness,  to 
our  mistakes,  we  may  leave  to  that  kindly 
oblivion  which  covers  all  such  things  in 
the  end.  These  are  the  things  which  are 
to  come  to  naught  and  all  the  love  of 
truth,  of  the  sincere  desire,  all  the  gener- 
ous ardor  mingled  with  them, —  all  these 
things  remain  because  they  are  of  God. 


33 


Ill 

Symbols 


SYMBOLS 

IN  both  the  school  and  the  church  a 
great  part  of  the  teaching  is  by  use  of 
symbols.  The  real  subjects  are  too  vast 
and  complex  to  be  directly  presented,  so 
that  representative  forms  are  used  instead. 
The  real  earth  cannot  be  brought  into 
the  school-room,  but  its  shape  can  be 
shown  by  the  little  globe.  The  "  object- 
lesson  "  is  indispensable. 

In  like  manner  the  great  truths  of  relig- 
ion are  so  involved  in  the  whole  of  human 
life  that  they  cannot,  in  their  entirety,  be 
brought  within  the  limits  of  the  church. 
Only  certain  aspects  of  them  can  be  ex- 
hibited, and  that  through  some  symbolical 
representation.  Symbolism  is  not  an  in- 
vention of  priests :  it  is  rather  an  educa- 
tional device.  It  has  a  psychological  jus- 
tification. Thought  and  feeling  must  be 

37 


The  Understanding  Heart 

helped  by  concrete  examples,  and  the 
example  must  lend  itself  to  the  teacher's 
purpose.  The  form  and  the  spirit  must 
be  united  if  a  permanent  impression  is  to 
be  made. 

When  one  for  the  first  time  goes  into 
a  Catholic  church  at  high  mass,  he  may 
be  readily  excused  if  he  looks  upon  the 
whole  ceremony  as  mere  mummery. 
The  unknown  language,  the  phrases  re- 
peated again  and  again  and  as  though 
they  had  some  magic  efficacy,  the  genu- 
flections of  the  priest  and  the  people, 
seem  meaningless  to  one  who  has  been 
accustomed  to  a  simpler  form  of  worship. 
Yet,  though  these  ceremonies  may  be 
meaningless  to  the  unprepared  spectator, 
it  does  not  follow  that  they  are  mean- 
ingless to  those  accustomed  to  them. 
To  the  worshipper  there  these  are  not 
dead,  empty  forms.  They  are  full  of 
spiritual  passion.  The  worshipper  seems 
to  stand  before  the  central  scene  in  the 
world's  history. 

38 


Symbols 

He  stands  again  looking  at  the  scene 
on  Calvary,  he  sees  the  "  Lamb  of  God  " 
still  "  taking  away  the  sins  of  the  world." 
To  call  all  this  mummery  is  only  a  con- 
fession of  our  own  ignorance  and  lack  of 
imagination.  It  indicates  the  same  state 
of  mind  that  would  make  one  call  a  for- 
eign language  mere  jargon.  Before  we 
criticise  the  thing,  we  must  try  to  under- 
stand it.  Because  we  find  no  meaning 
in  it,  there  is  no  reason  that  we  should 
say  that  there  is  no  meaning  there. 

Now,  when  we  see  an  elaborate  ritual 
like  this,  we  perceive  clearly  that  all  these 
actions  and  words  are  symbolic.  The 
words  and  scenes  are  nothing  in  them- 
selves, they  do  not  profess  to  be  anything 
in  themselves ;  but  they  stand  for  and 
represent  something  which  is  believed  to 
be  true.  Here  is  a  kind  of  language 
which  is  supposed  to  be  understood  by 
the  people :  the  church  is  here  speaking 
to  her  children  in  parables.  Through  the 
gate-ways  of  the  senses  and  the  imagina- 

39 


The  Understanding  Heart 

tion,  she  is  seeking  to  enter  their  inmost 
souls.  These  outward  things  are  not  the 
grace  which  is  beyond  price  :  they  are  only 
the  means  of  grace, —  not  the  fountains  of 
religion,  but  the  well  worn  channels  of  re- 
ligious emotion.  And  so  the  Church 
makes  use  of  every  possible  means  for 
bringing  her  thought  and  her  holy  passion 
to  bear  upon  the  heart  and  upon  the  con- 
science. Architecture,  music,  motion, 
speech,  color,  are  used  in  turn  and  are  sub- 
ordinated to  one  purpose,  which  is  to 
arouse  and  direct  thought  and  feeling  in 
regard  to  religion. 

Now  a  true  criticism  of  any  such  elab- 
orate religion  is  the  same  that  may  be  used 
in  regard  to  language.  The  first  essential 
of  language  is  not  that  it  should  be  rich 
or  beautiful,  though  it  may  be  both :  the 
first  essential  is  that  it  should  have  a 
meaning,  and  that  it  should  actually  con- 
vey that  meaning.  And  so  one  asks,  Do 
people  actually  understand  these  acts  and 
symbols?  And  the  candid  priest  would 
40 


Symbols 

be  very  willing  to  acknowledge  that  as  a 
matter  of  fact  a  great  many  people  do  not 
understand  them.  He  may  admit  that 
there  are  in  his  congregation  those  who 
look  upon  these  signs,  not  as  symbols  at 
all,  but  as  the  ultimate  reality.  They  see 
and  hear,  and  after  a  fashion  enjoy,  the 
sights  and  sounds,  but  they  go  no  farther. 
These  forms  are  not  transparent  to  their 
thought.  They  stand  to  them  with  a 
certain  opaque  virtue  of  their  own.  The 
place  is  holy,  the  image  is  the  object  of 
worship.  All  these  things  that  the 
church  has  provided  with  such  profusion 
are  accepted  as  realities  and  enjoyed  and 
reverenced  as  such.  They  are  not  to 
these  persons  the  "  shadow  and  copy  of 
heavenly  things,"  full  of  holy  suggestions 
of  something  beyond :  they  are  the  holy 
things  themselves.  And  yet  the  priest 
might  say  that  this  is  not  his  fault  or  the 
fault  of  the  service,  but  that  the  fault  is 
with  those  who  are  so  dull  of  understand- 
ing that  they  cannot  interpret  the  symbol 
into  reality. 

41 


The  Understanding  Heart 

Many  people  do  not  understand  para- 
bles, or  poetry,  or  any  symbolic  state- 
ment of  truth ;  but  the  man  of  logic  who 
thinks  he  has  a  statement  so  crystal  clear 
that  it  contains  the  truth  and  nothing  but 
the  truth  cannot  glory,  because  the  priest 
may  very  well  ask  him,  "  Do  all  the  peo- 
ple understand  what  you  mean  when  you 
speak  through  the  colorless  understand- 
ing, do  they  as  a  matter  of  fact  get  the 
holy  passion  for  righteousness  and  for 
truth  which  is  yours  ? " 

Shakespeare  makes  his  curate  and 
schoolmaster  discourse  together,  while 
Goodman  Dull  stands  by  and  listens. 
After  a  while  they  say  to  Goodman  Dull, 
"  Thou  hast  spoken  no  word  all  this 
while,"  and  Goodman  Dull  answers  after 
his  kind,  "  No,  nor  understood  none 
neither,  sir." 

Goodman    Dull    may    not    understand 

poetry,  forms,   the  sense  of  any  priestly 

ritual ;  but  Goodman  Dull  is  not  a  ready 

pupil   in  logic,  either.     He  must  in  any 

42 


Symbols 

event  be  taught  "line  upon  line,  precept 
upon  precept." 

Now,  when  we  have  this  elaborate 
ritual,  we  see  that  there  are  two  things, — 
the  symbol  and  the  great  reality  which 
is  behind  it.  A  symbol  is  nothing  of 
itself,  but  it  is  the  means  of  communi- 
cating something  of  true  value.  Every 
religion,  no  matter  how  simple,  no  mat- 
ter how  natural,  must  be  in  its  methods 
largely  ritualistic.  Because  it  deals  with 
that  which  is  infinite  and  eternal,  it  can- 
not dispense  with  some  outward  forms  by 
which  these  things  are  made  known.  It 
must  be  propagated  not  by  means  of  exact 
definitions,  not  by  showing  the  things 
themselves,  but  only  by  suggesting  them. 
Every  religion  must  use  these  symbols, 
whether  elaborate  or  simple,  to  suggest 
something  behind ;  and  the  most  simple 
and  rational  religion  is  most  in  danger  of 
degenerating  into  formalism,  because  it  is 
then  so  easy  to  mistake  the  form  for  the 
reality. 

43 


The  Understanding  Heart 

The  Quaker  is  more  apt  to  be  a  formal- 
ist than  the  priest,  because  he  does  not 
readily  see  that  his  simple  actions  or  mere 
silence  are  not  in  themselves  worth  any- 
thing, but  are  only  suggestions  of  some- 
thing which  the  soul  may  reach  through 
them.  Let  us  take  the  most  spiritual  and 
inward  views  of  religion,  let  us  say  once 
for  all  that  it  is  not  a  thing  of  formality, 
but  of  life  and  of  the  interior  apprehension, 
it  is  the  direct  sense  of  the  infinite  and  the 
eternal  in  the  individual  soul,  its  joy  and 
peace  and  hope.  When  you  have  felt 
any  of  these  things  in  your  own  heart, 
the  desire  comes  to  communicate  them  to 
others.  Something  very  wonderful  has 
happened  to  you,  life  has  become  alto- 
gether different,  a  great  hope  has  dawned, 
a  mighty  emotion  has  come  to  you :  you 
stand  in  the  presence  of  infinite  reality 
which  demands  the  allegiance  of  your 
heart  and  life.  And  it  is  then  when 
something  has  happened  to  you  which 
transcends  your  knowledge  that  you  be- 


Symbols 

come  conscious  of  the  loneliness  of  every 
individual  soul,  the  great  gulf  that  sepa- 
rates you  from  others.  Then  you  begin 
to  ask  yourself,  Has  this  holy  secret  been 
revealed  to  me  alone,  has  another  felt  just 
this  which  thrills  me?  Has  this  hope 
dawned  upon  another  soul  and  this  love 
taken  possession  of  it?  How  can  you 
know? 

It  is  only  when  some  one,  by  use  of 
some  form,  communicates  with  you  that 
you  can  know  whether  your  deepest  life  is 
something  that  separates  you  from  others 
or  unites  you  in  a  common  fellowship. 
We  are  all  upon  the  great  deep  :  every  soul 
is  a  ship  sailing  upon  its  own  predestined 
course,  but  across  the  great  deep  we  can 
signal  to  each  other.  The  whole  history 
of  religion  in  its  outward  manifestation  is 
this.  It  is  the  attempt  of  individual  souls 
to  communicate  with  each  other  across  the 
gulf  of  life,  telling  of  the  discoveries  they 
have  made,  signalling  across  great  centuries 
and  lands  until  they  learn  at  last  that  the 

45 


The  Understanding  Heart 

heart  of  the  world  is  one  in  its  needs  and 
its  hopes. 

Now,  as  the  ship-master,  when  he  sees 
the  signals  from  afar,  must  compare 
those  signals  with  his  own  code,  so 
every  one  of  us  who  sees  the  signs 
must  interpret  them  as  best  we  may, 
through  our  own  personal  experience, 
until  we  come  to  see  that  as  we  feel 
to-day  others  have  felt.  And  we  find, 
when  these  signals  come,  that  we  must 
take  the  common  things  of  life  as  the 
basis,  we  must '  use  them  as  sugges- 
tions of  the  higher  things.  So  nature 
comes  to  be  all  symbolic  to  the  religious 
consciousness. 

The  mountain  thus  becomes  to  every 
idealist  something  more  than  a  heap  of 
earth  and  stone :  it  becomes  "  the  great 
affirmer  of  the  present  tense  and  type 
of  permanence." 

And  the  sea  with  its  restlessness  is 
something  more  than  the  water  which  is 
in  it,  for  there  are  tides  of  the  spirit  which 
46 


Symbols 

respond  in  us  to  the  movement  of  the 
sea.  It  becomes  truly  to  every  one  of  us 
looking  upon  it  typical  of  those  hopes 
which  make  our  life,  and  the  mystery 
of  it. 

When  one  across  the  centuries  is  tell- 
ing us  of  the  thought  that  came  to  him 
as  he  looked  out  upon  the  universe, — 
"  Thy  righteousness  is  like  a  great  moun- 
tain, Thy  judgments  like  a  great  sea, — " 
we  need  no  scholar  to  interpret  the  words. 
We  also  have  felt  the  presence  of  the 
same  mystery.  And  the  light  that  comes 
to  us  is  not  merely  a  physical  thing  any 
longer:  it  thrills  us  with  messages  of 
hope.  We  know  what  the  man  meant 
who  said  of  God,  "  God  is  light ; "  the 
words  interpret  these  signals  that  flash 
round  the  world. 

To  the  lover  of  light,  darkness  is  some- 
thing more  than  a  physical  fact.  Why  is 
it  to-day  that  the  philanthropist  looks 
upon  the  dark  cell  of  the  prison  as  in 
itself  a  torture  too  great  to  be  inflicted  ? 

47 


The  Understanding  Heart 

Because  only  that  soul  which  is  illumined 
from  within,  which  finds  some  spiritual 
light,  dares  face  continually  the  darkness. 
To  the  sinful  soul  the  darkness  stands  as 
the  withdrawal  of  all  hope.  No  man 
thus  facing  his  own  life  can  have  those 
symbols  always  before  him  without  de- 
spair. The  light  and  the  darkness,  day 
and  night, —  these  stand  for  experiences 
of  the  inner  life. 

We  must  teach  by  symbols.  This  we 
must  all  acknowledge.  A  form  of 
thought  or  a  form  of  words  is  just  as 
truly  symbolic  as  is  a  gesture  or  a  statue. 
But  the  educational  question  is  :  Do  these 
symbols  actually  lift  the  soul  to  the 
contemplation  of  the  truth  symbolized? 
Does  the  parable  illuminate  any  other- 
wise dark  tract  of  experience  ? 

George  Eliot  tells  of  the  clergyman 
who,  in  an  elaborate  discourse  on  the 
parable  of  the  leaven,  was  successful  in 
getting  the  hearers'  minds  into  the  dough- 
tub,  but  was  unable  to  get  them  out. 
48 


Symbols 

Such  is  the  result  of  all  unskilful  efforts 
at  religious  teaching. 

Here  the  church  may  learn  a  lesson 
from  the  school.  The  object-lesson  is  in 
the  school-room  used  as  a  means  to  an 
end,  it  never  allowed  to  become  an  end 
in  itself.  It  gives  only  one  aspect  of  the 
reality :  the  teacher  aims  to  draw  the  mind 
away  from  it  to  the  thing  for  which  it 
stands.  When  this  is  once  clearly  under- 
stood and  practised  in  the  church,  there 
will  be  no  further  quarrel  with  symbolism. 
Let  the  teacher  of  religion  have  his  mind 
centred  on  a  reality,  then  all  his  chosen 
symbols  will  become  transparent 


49 


IV 

Literature  and  Morals 


LITERATURE  AND  MORALS 

"  WHAT  books  shall  we  put  into  the 
hands  of  our  children  ?  "  This  question 
is  asked  with  a  tremulous  anxiety  by  those 
who  have  moral  and  spiritual  interests  at 
heart. 

A  list  of  the  best  books,  from  the  stand- 
point of  the  lover  of  literature,  only  adds 
to  the  anxiety ;  for  it  happens  that  these 
books  have  not  all  been  written  with  the 
purpose  of  edification.  Literary  culture 
is  something  different  from  "  the  nurture 
and  admonition  of  the  Lord." 

It  has  been  characteristic  of  evangelical 
piety  that  it  has  been  distrustful  of  the 
world's  great  literature,  and  has  attempted 
to  create  a  literature  of  its  own.  The 
drama,  the  novel,  the  poetry  which  ex- 
pressed the  feelings  of  the  natural  man ; 
all  these  were  classed  among  the  temp- 
53 


The  Understanding  Heart 

tations.  The  youth  in  a  sheltered  home 
was  given  "  safe  "  books  to  read.  If  fic- 
tion was  allowed,  it  was  of  a  kind  so 
much  less  strange  than  truth  that  it  did 
not  stimulate  the  imagination.  In  these 
tales  the  heroes  suffered  for  a  time,  but  al- 
ways according  to  an  intelligible  plan  and 
for  the  sake  of  an  obvious  moral.  They  had 
their  temptations,  but  they  were  not  of  a 
kind  to  tempt  the  reader.  If  there  was 
the  slightest  danger  of  misapprehension, 
the  good  author  would  intervene,  like  Snug, 
the  joiner,  to  give  assurance  that  no  harm 
was  meant.  The  path  of  duty  was  well 
supplied  with  guide-boards  and  policemen. 
The  distinctions  between  virtue  and  vice 
were  never  left  unexplained.  The  sinner 
was  never  allowed  to  deviate  for  an  in- 
stant into  rectitude,  nor  to  endear  him- 
self by  any  lapses  into  virtue  inconsistent 
with  his  main  character.  He  was  intro- 
duced only  to  illustrate  the  "exceeding 
sinfulness  of  sin."  The  hypocrite  could 
be  detected  at  a  glance :  the  wolves  wore 

54 


Literature  and  Morals 

their  sheep's  clothing  so  awkwardly  that 
not  even  the  most  inexperienced  lamb  could 
be  deceived.  One  did  not  think  of  the 
characters  as  changing  from  day  to  day 
under  stress  of  circumstance,  becoming 
now  weaker,  now  stronger.  A  great  gulf 
divided  the  good  from  the  bad.  The  bad 
were  predestinated  by  the  author  from  the 
beginning  unto  wrath.  This  decree  of 
literary  reprobation  was  as  unyielding  as 
that  described  by  the  Westminster  di- 
vines :  "  Some  men  and  angels  are  predes- 
tinated and  foreordained  unto  everlasting 
death.  These  men  and  angels,  thus  pre- 
destinated and  foreordained,  are  particu- 
larly and  unchangeably  designed,  and 
their  number  is  so  certain  and  definite 
that  it  cannot  be  either  increased  or  di- 
minished." 

Not  only  works  of  pious  fiction  have 
been  written  in  this  way,  but  histories 
have  been  written,  not  primarily  to  satisfy 
the  desire  to  trace  the  course  of  events, 
but  to  illustrate  a  thesis.  They  show  not 
55 


The  Understanding  Heart 

so  much  what  happened  as  what,  in  the 
writer's  opinion,  ought  to  have  happened. 
We  are  shown  how  the  wicked  are  caught 
in  their  own  devices,  and  how  the  right- 
eous inherit  the  earth.  The  retribution 
on  evil  deeds  is  pictured  as  so  direct  that 
one  wonders  how  evil  has  managed  to 
survive.  An  agreeable  feature  in  such 
histories,  and  one  which  saves  the  reader 
from  perplexity,  is  that  the  righteous  al- 
ways belong  to  the  same  sect  and  fight 
under  the  same  banner.  There  is  none 
of  the  difficulty  presented  in  the  parable, 
where  the  wheat  and  the  tares  grow  up  to- 
gether and  are  often  indistinguishable ;  for 
they  are  shown  to  belong  to  different  fields 
and  to  be  always  divided  by  a  sufficient 
fence. 

There  have  been  systems  of  philosophy 
in  which  only  what  is  presumed  to  be 
"  safe  "  has  been  allowed  place.  It  is  an 
expurgated  edition  of  the  universe  that  is 
presented,  adapted  for  the  use  of  parish 
schools.  These  neat  systems  seem  de- 
56 


Literature  and  Morals 

signed  to  disprove  the  saying  that  "a 
little  knowledge  is  a  dangerous  thing " ; 
the  amount  of  knowledge  of  the  real 
world  contained  in  them  being  so  very 
little  that  it  could  scarcely  be  dangerous 
to  the  weakest  intelligence.  No  facts  are 
admitted  that  do  not  fit  snugly  into  the 
edifying  system.  Nature  has  no  teeth  or 
claws.  There  are  no  ugly  facts,  no  un- 
tamed passions,  no  unanswered  questions, 
no  tantalizing  possibilities,  no  vast  dim 
regions  yet  unexplored.  The  universe 
presented  is  just  the  kind  of  a  universe 
which  a  well-regulated  but  somewhat 
commonplace  intelligence  would  have 
created.  The  most  that  can  be  said 
against  it  is  that  it  is  a  little  dull.  ^ 

It  is  a  critical  moment  when  one  dis- 
covers that  this  is  not  the  real  universe, 
which  is  something  not  nearly  so  safe,  and 
a  great  deal  bigger.  The  real  universe  is 
so  big  that  it  is  easy  to  get  lost  in  it; 
and  all  of  us  do  get  lost  in  it,  and 
the  wisest  only  dimly  see  the  way.  And 

57 


The  Understanding  Heart 

we  learn  that  human  nature  is  much 
more  complex  than  we  had  been  taught, 
and  character  and  circumstance  are  not 
adjusted  with  that  mechanical  exactitude 
which  the  moral  tale  describes.  Real 
people  are  neither  so  good  nor  so  bad 
as  the  people  in  an  allegory. 

When  we  turn  from  the  books  that  are 
written  for  edification  to  the  real  literature 
of  life,  we  enter  a  new  world.  The  great 
poets,  philosophers,  historians,  dramatists, 
novelists,  are  not  special  pleaders  for  any 
single  type  of  character,  nor  do  they  set 
up  any  one  standard  of  respectability. 
They  try  to  understand  the  truth  and  to 
sympathetically  express  it.  Through  the 
exercise  of  reason  and  imagination,  they 
desire  to  give  a  representation  of  many- 
sided  realities. 

The  historian  who  conscientiously  at- 
tempts to  trace  the  actual  course  of  events 
finds  that  the  channel  which  the  stream 
has  made  for  itself  is  less  straight  than 
that  which  the  moralist  had  traced  for  it. 
58 


Literature  and  Morals 

There  are  many  devious  windings  and 
many  surprises  to  the  explorer.  There 
are  many  great  events  whose  moral  bear- 
ings are  not  obvious.  There  is  a  seamy 
side  to  the  lives  of  the  saints.  There 
are  great  men,  to  whom  the  world  is  in- 
debted, whose  characters  do  not  match 
their  deeds.  Many  a  good  cause  has 
triumphed  by  questionable  means.  In 
like  manner  the  philosopher  finds  many 
facts  that  sadly  mar  the  symmetry  of  his 
system.  He  must  confess  that  they  are 
true,  and  yet  he  doesn't  know  just  what 
to  do  with  them. 

The  great  dramatists  and  novelists  im- 
itate the  wide  impartiality  of  nature.  The 
sun  of  genius  shines  alike  on  the  just  and 
the  unjust.  All  varieties  of  character,  all 
circumstances,  all  passions  and  struggles, 
are  sympathetically  studied,  with  the  desire 
to  find  out  the  truth  in  regard  to  them. 
There  are  no  labels  to  the  characters,  no 
predetermined  plan  by  which  rewards  and 
punishments  are  meted  out.  The  people 

59 


The  Understanding  Heart 

live  their  lives,  working  out  each  one 
his  own  destiny.  They  act  from  mixed 
motives  and  from  imperfect  knowledge. 
They  are  subject  to  accidents  which  mar 
the  smooth  administration  of  poetical  jus- 
tice. The  author  does  not  apologize  be- 
cause his  picture  does  not  always  seem 
edifying :  it  is  sufficient  if  it  enlarges  our 
conception  of  reality. 

Men  of  intense  moral  earnestness  have 
always  found  it  hard  to  appreciate  this 
point  of  view.  It  is  a  part  of  the  old 
conflict  between  the  Puritan  and  the  Hu- 
manist. The  Puritan  was  intent  on  the 
discipline  of  conscience  and  the  purifica- 
tion of  the  spiritual  nature.  The  Human- 
ist sought  the  enlargement  of  experience 
and  the  increase  of  sensibility.  The  Puri- 
tan sought  to  reform  the  world,  the  Hu- 
manist to  understand  it  and  appreciate  it. 

But  is  there  not  a  generous  culture  that 
unites  these  two  ideals  and  seeks  to  culti- 
vate them  in  harmony  ?  Should  not  our 
effort  be  to  such  an  end  ?  This  was  the 
60 


Literature  and  Morals 

ideal  realized  by  Milton  in  the  seventeenth 
century  and  by  Channing  in  the  nine- 
teenth. 

Milton's  conception  of  virtue  was  in- 
clusive of  wide  sympathy  and  generous 
human  aspiration :  — 

"  Mortals  that  would  follow  me, 
Love  Virtue :  she  alone  is  free, 
She  can  teach  you  how  to  climb 
Higher  than  the  sphery  chime, 
Or,  if  Virtue  feeble  were, 
Heaven  itself  would  stoop  to  her." 

Conceive  of  religion  and  morality  not 
as  conventionalities  to  be  preserved,  but 
as  mighty  forces  exhibited  in  the  living 
world,  and  we  come  to  see  in  all  great 
literature  an  inspiration. 

There  are  clever  persons  who  tell  us 
that  the  great  writers  are  unmoral.  Mo- 
rality is  treated  by  them  as  a  provincial- 
ism that  may  be  ignored  by  the  man  of 
cosmopolitan  breadth.  It  is  a  prejudice 

61 


The  Understanding  Heart 

of  commonplace  minds.  It  is,  in  their 
judgment,  the  highest  praise  of  a  work  of 
art  that  it  has  no  moral  quality. 

Now,  if  this  were  so,  if  the  greatest 
works  of  human  genius  were  unmoral, 
and  if  it  were  the  necessary  effect  of  intel- 
lectual culture  to  produce  indifference  to 
right  and  wrong,  I  should,  I  confess,  go 
with  the  Puritan.  We  can  get  along, 
he  says,  without  great  art  or  literature, 
but  we  cannot  get  along  without  honest 
and  earnest  men  and  women.  We  can 
get  along  without  taste  or  scholarship : 
we  cannot  get  along  without  character. 
We  can  get  along  without  very  extensive 
knowledge  of  the  great  world ;  but  so 
much  of  the  world  as  we  live  in  and  con- 
trol we  must  make  clean  and  habitable. 
Some  one  has  described  the  man  of  un- 
moral culture,  with  his  half-sceptical  inter- 
est in  social  problems,  as  "a  Sadducee 
asking  his  way  to  Utopia."  Rather  than 
such  a  man,  give  me  the  Puritan  ideal  of 
the  pilgrim  "  clothed  with  rags,  standing 
62 


Literature  and  Morals 

with  his  face  from  his  own  house,  a  book 
in  his  hand  and  a  great  burden  on  his 
back,  and  crying,  What  shall  I  do  to  be 
saved  ? "  Cardinal  Newman  was  right 
when  he  declared, — 

"  Dim  is  the  philosophic  flame, 
By  thoughts  severe  unfed ; 
Book-lore  ne'er  served  when  trial  came, 
Nor  gifts  when  faith  is  dead." 

But  in  what  sense  are  the  great  works 
of  human  genius,  those  works  which  give 
the  largest  and  freest  representations  of 
reality,  unmoral  ?  If  you  mean  that  the 
first  intention  of  their  authors  is  not  to 
point  a  moral,  or  if  you  mean  that  they 
pay  little  attention  to  the  conventional 
standards  of  respectability,  and  that  they 
are  not  afraid  to  shock  the  prejudices  of 
many  good  people,  all  this  may  be  readily 
granted.  But  if  you  mean  that  a  com- 
plete and  truthful  representation  of  hu- 
man life  can  be  given  which  ignores 
63 


The  Understanding  Heart 

moral  powers  and  moral   relations,  I  say, 
no. 

The  great  facts  of  sin,  of  righteousness, 
and  of  judgment,  cannot  be  suppressed. 
Those  who  eliminate  them  from  their  pict- 
ure only  indicate  their  own  limitations, 
and  condemn  their  work  to  hopeless  triv- 
iality. He  who  without  moral  insight 
attempts  to  tell  the  story  of  an  individual 
or  a  nation,  is  like  a  painter  who  is  color- 
blind. It  is  not  as  if  the  moral  were 
tacked  on  to  the  story  ;  it  is  involved  in 
the  story  itself,  it  is  the  centre  of  its  inter- 
est. How  men  sin,  and  suffer  from  their 
sins,  and  at  last,  through  sorrow  and  pain, 
find  the  way  of  life, —  what  greater  theme 
is  there  than  this?  One  might  say  that 
this  is  the  only  theme,  and  that  literature 
furnishes  only  variations  upon  it.  Did 
we  live  in  a  perfect  world,  in  which  no 
mistakes  were  possible,  and  no  struggles 
were  required,  there  would  be  nothing  to 
tell.  This  monotony  of  excellence  would 
furnish  no  material  for  history.  And,  on 
64 


Literature  and  Morals 

the  other  hand,  were  there  no  ideal  of 
perfection,  nothing  to  rebuke  us  in  our 
lowness  and  to  lure  us  on  to  an  excellence 
yet  unattained,  there  would  be  nothing 
worth  telling.  It  is  because  we  are  im- 
perfect creatures,  capable  of  worshipping 
the  perfect  and  striving  for  it,  that  life  be- 
comes thrilling  in  its  significance.  How, 
under  all  varieties  of  circumstances,  souls 
are  awakened  to  their  true  condition,  how 
they  make  mistakes,  how  they  learn  wis- 
dom from  their  errors,  how  they  sorrow 
and  love  and  aspire,  how  danger  evokes 
heroism,  and  disappointment  hope, — of  all 
this  we  never  tire.  Shakespeare  describes 
this  perennial  theme  of  literary  art, — 

"  O  benefit  of  ill !  now  I  find  true 
That  better  is  by  evil  still  made  better; 
And  ruined  love,  when  it  is  built  anew, 
Grows  fairer  than  at  first,  more  strong,  far 
greater." 

The  "  benefit  of  ill  "  is  essentially  a  moral 

theme ;  it  is  a  discovery  of  the  moral  in- 

6s 


The  Understanding  Heart 

sight ;  it  involves  the  triumph  of  the  soul 
over  unfavorable  circumstances. 

The  term  "  unmoral "  may  properly  be 
applied  to  clever  rather  than  to  great  liter- 
ature. A  short  story  may  be  written  from 
which  all  ethical  elements  are  left  out. 
In  such  a  story  we  are  shown  an  act  with- 
out its  consequences.  A  person  commits 
a  pleasant  sin,  and  we  see  its  pleasantness 
and  not  its  sinfulness.  There  is  an  im- 
pression of  delightful  irresponsibility.  But 
this  impression  comes,  not  because  we 
have  an  artistic  representation  of  the  truth, 
but  because  the  whole  truth  has  not  been 
told.  Poets  have  written  beautiful  songs 
in  praise  of  wine,  and  have  described  the 
exhilaration  and  gladness  that  belong  to 
certain  stages  of  intoxication.  But  no 
poet  could  describe  it  all,  so  as  to  make 
it  seem  attractive.  Vice  ceases  to  be  at- 
tractive when  it  is  seen  in  all  its  results 
and  relations.  Those  who  have  attempted 
great  things,  who  have  tried  to  portray 
life  in  its  wholeness,  have  found  it  impos- 
66 


Literature  and  Morals 

sible  to  ignore  the  moral  element.  If  it 
does  not  appear  directly,  it  manifests  it- 
self powerfully  by  suggestion.  In  the 
real  world  every  act  has  its  consequence, 
and  it  is  the  business  of  the  student  of 
humanity  to  trace  the  consequences.  The 
judgment  on  the  evil  deed  may  not  be 
so  obvious  as  in  the  moral  tale ;  but  it  is 
a  real  judgment,  coming  through  the 
working  of  natural  law.  This  is  what 
gives  significance  to  the  great  tragedies. 
We  trace  in  them  both  physical  and  moral 
causation,  but  the  great  interest  is  always 
in  the  latter  element.  What  matter  if 
the  hero  is  borne  down  by  overwhelming 
physical  force  ?  If  he  is  faithful  unto 
death,  and  in  death  is  heroic,  we  hail  him 
as  conqueror. 

Nor  is  great  literature  unmoral  because 
it  introduces  us  to  other  than  what  we 
call  respectable  people.  If  that  were  so, 
the  New  Testament  would  be  lacking  in 
morality,  because  of  its  sympathetic  treat- 
ment of  harlots  and  publicans  and  sinners. 
67 


The  Understanding  Heart 

This  means  only  a  more  truly  discrim- 
inating moral  judgment.  The  line  be- 
tween right  and  wrong  does  not  run  be- 
tween different  classes  in  the  community. 
"The  word  of  God  is  living  and  active, 
and  sharper  than  any  two-edged  sword, 
and  piercing  even  to  the  dividing  asunder 
of  the  soul  and  the  spirit,  of  both  joints 
and  marrow,  and  quick  to  discern  the 
thoughts  and  intents  of  the  heart." 

The  judgment  of  those  who  are  quick 
to  discern  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the 
heart  will  be  different  from  that  of  those 
who  judge  by  some  conventional  standard. 
They  will  point  out  the  weaknesses  and 
selfishness  in  many  whom  the  world  praises, 
and  they  will  find  much  to  love  among 
people  who  are  despised  and  blamed. 
This  means  that  they  have  discovered 
that  the  moral  struggle  is  not  all  in  one 
place,  and  going  on  only  under  certain 
circumstances.  The  battlefield  is  the 
world,  and  the  battle  is  along  the  whole 
line.  Wherever  a  man  sees  a  better  and 

68 


Literature  and  Morals 

a  worse,  and  chooses  the  worse,  there  is 
sin  and  wretchedness.  Wherever  a  man 
chooses  the  better  part,  there  is  a  triumph 
for  righteousness.  To  truly  observe  and 
rightly  record  the  varying  phases  of  this 
great  human  struggle  requires,  not  the 
spirit  of  a  narrow  partisan,  but  the  broad- 
est sympathy  and  the  quickest  apprehen- 
sion. 

Nor  is  the  philosophic  attitude  toward 
the  world  unmoral,  though  it  often  seems 
so  to  the  impatient  moralist.  Broad  tol- 
erance and  impartial  acceptance  of  facts 
gives  the  impression  of  ethical  indiffer- 
ence. But  in  reality  this  is  but  the  con- 
dition of  true  moral  judgment.  No  more 
impressive  words  are  found  in  the  Bible 
than  those  which  describe  the  impartial 
eyes  of  God  without  anger,  but  with  full 
comprehension  of  the  actual  and  the  pos- 
sible, viewing  the  evil  and  the  good  in 
human  character.  "  The  eyes  of  the 
Lord  are  in  every  place,  beholding  the 
evil  and  the  good."  That  seems  to  me 
69 


The  Understanding  Heart 

more  impressive  than  any  description  of 
a  general  judgment.  We  live  our  lives, 
we  do  our  deeds,  we  achieve  our  measure 
of  success.  But  all  the  time  there  is  an 
intelligence  that  sees  us  as  we  are.  In 
the  light  of  this  intelligence  our  good, 
however  imperfect  in  its  expression,  is 
seen  to  be  good,  our  evil,  however  dis- 
guised, is  seen  to  be  evil.  And  is  not 
this  what  the  human  intelligence,  when  it 
has  grown  large  and  clear  and  calm,  be- 
comes ?  The  ideal  philosopher  —  not  the 
system-maker,  but  the  man  of  serene  wis- 
dom—  does  not  wilfully  shut  his  eyes  to 
any  reality.  His  eyes  are  in  every  place : 
he  seeks  to  comprehend,  and  is  not  quick 
to  blame.  But,  when  he  sees  the  evil 
and  the  good,  they  are  not  alike  to  him. 
The  same  clear-sightedness  which  discerns 
a  character  must  also  discern  its  quality 
and  its  value. 

Between  a  narrow  morality  and  a  self- 
ish culture  there  must   be  conflict.     But 
there   is    a    morality    that    is    not    nar- 
70 


Literature  and  Morals 

row,  and  a  culture  that  is  not  selfish.  To 
know  the  real  world,  to  feel  the  sweep  of 
its  great  forces,  to  enjoy  its  amazing  vari- 
ety, is  not  to  have  escaped  from  the 
realm  of  moral  law.  It  is  only  to  have 
prepared  one's  self  for  its  understanding. 
The  education  which  fits  us  to  perceive 
the  actual  world  must  also  fit  us  to  do 
our  proper  part  in  it. 


V 
Work  and  Worship 


WORK  AND  WORSHIP 

IN  the  discussions  which  we  so  often 
hear  in  regard  to  the  future  of  religion, 
there  is  one  thought  which  is  continually 
repeated  and  which  brings  to  many  minds 
great  apprehension.  It  is  that  religion  is 
in  danger  from  the  increasing  preoccupa- 
tion of  the  minds  of  the  people.  It  may 
be  disputed  whether  the  rich  are  growing 
richer  and  the  poor  growing  poorer,  but 
it  is  certainly  true  that  the  busy  are  grow- 
ing busier  and  the  idle  are  more  preoccu- 
pied by  the  pleasures  of  idleness.  The 
modern  man  finds  so  much  to  do.  There 
are  so  many  directions  in  which  his  mind 
may  move,  so  much  work,  so  much  pos- 
sibility of  pleasure  to  be  crowded  into  the 
few  years  of  his  life,  that  there  are  those 
who  say  it  is  possible  that  through  this 
very  expansion  of  human  activity  religion 
75 


The  Understanding  Heart 

may  be  crowded  out.  Even  as  it  is  to- 
day, they  say,  it  is  too  much  to  expect 
that  the  men  who  are  building  our  cities 
and  our  railroads,  who  are  discovering 
the  laws  of  the  universe,  who  are  troubled 
with  the  problems  of  government,  who 
have  charge  of  vast  business  affairs, 
should  have  time  for  the  peculiar  prob- 
lems of  religion.  Men  are  becoming  too 
busy  to  be  religious. 

Now  I  think  that  the  very  fact  that  such 
an  idea  ever  enters  into  the  minds  of  men 
is  an  indication  that  our  ordinary  idea  of 
what  religion  is  is  an  inadequate  one. 
What  would  you  say  of  an  officer  in  the 
army  who  should  declare  :  "  I  am  too  busy 
to  indulge  in  patriotic  feeling  or  to  re- 
spond to  that.  I  am  too  much  occupied 
with  many  affairs  that  demand  my  whole 
attention.  I  have  to  see  that  my  men 
are  well  drilled  and  well  fed ;  I  have  to 
go  upon  the  march,  I  have  to  be  pre- 
pared for  battle.  I  am  too  busy  to  in- 
dulge in  any  transcendental  sentiment." 
76 


Work  and  Worship 

What  would  you  say  to  that  man  ?  You 
would  say  :  "  You  mistake  altogether  the 
meaning  of  patriotism.  It  is  not  another 
kind  of  business  that  you  are  to  perform 
after  you  are  through  with  this  necessary 
work  of  your  profession.  It  is  simply 
that  which  gives  your  profession  any  value 
whatever.  Without  this  sentiment  your 
business  is  the  vilest  that  can  be  con- 
ceived. You  are  a  mere  mercenary  en- 
gaged in  the  trade  of  butchery.  There  is 
a  sentiment  which  justifies  you,  however, 
which  lifts  your  profession  from  the  low- 
est to  the  highest ;  and  that  is  the  love  of 
the  country,  unselfish  devotion  to  the  flag 
you  serve.  It  isn't  a  question  of  time,  it 
isn't  a  question  of  preoccupation :  it  is  a 
question  of  right  feeling." 

Lovers  of  peace  often  make  the  mis- 
take of  underrating  the  idea  of  military 
honor,  and  of  speaking  slightingly  of  the 
soldier's  profession.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
we  have  to  speak  in  a  different  tone  if  we 
are  to  preserve  our  own  liberty.  No 

77 


The  Understanding  Heart 

man  is  worthy  to  hold  the  sword  save  as 
he  is  inspired  by  the  very  highest  motives. 
And  all  that  inspires  military  honor, —  the 
religious  sentiment,  if  you  will,  of  the 
military  life, —  all  that  is  a  necessary  part 
of  that  life,  without  which  it  has  no  value 
whatever,  or  is  worse  than  that, —  is  a 
menace  to  the  public  weal. 

What  would  you  say  to  the  man  of 
business  who  said  to  you  :  "  I  have  to  do  a 
great  many  things,  I  have  to  make  plans 
for  this  business  of  mine,  I  have  to  see 
that  my  obligations  are  met,  that  the  work 
given  me  to  do  is  done  correctly.  I  have 
a  great  many  things  to  look  after.  I  have 
so  much  to  do  that  I  have  no  time  to 
consider  my  duty,  no  time  to  consider 
questions  of  ethics.  I  am  a  practical  man 
of  affairs  "  ?  What  would  you  say  to  the 
wife  and  mother  who  declared ;  "  My 
household  demands  all  my  care.  I 
am  occupied  with  the  welfare  of  my 
children  and  my  husband.  I  have  no 
time ,  to  indulge  in  what  you  call  love. 
78 


Work  and  Worship 

That  is  an  affair  altogether  apart  from  the 
necessary  work  of  my  life.  I  am  too 
much  preoccupied  for  that "  ? 

Now  in  a  thoroughly  wholesome  and 
natural  state,  religion  bears  just  that  rela- 
tion to  life.  It  is  not  something  which  is 
an  affair  by  itself,  something  that  can  be 
considered  in  any  abstract  way,  but  some- 
thing which  gives  the  very  highest  value 
to  every  activity.  A  man  should  not 
think  of  religion  as  if  it  were  another 
thing  from  that  which  he  is  all  the  time 
doing. 

Suppose  you  had  gone  to  a  grave  citi- 
zen of  the  Roman  Republic  and  asked 
him  about  his  religion.  I  fancy  that  such 
a  man  would  hardly  know  what  you 
meant.  He  would  not  approach  it  as  we 
in  these  days  are  apt  to  approach  a  relig- 
ious question.  "  Have  you  time  for  re- 
ligion ? "  you  would  ask  that  man,  the 
man  who  bore  the  burdens  of  state,  who 
was  the  counsellor,  the  legislator,  the  sol- 
dier of  the  Republic.  He  would  say 

79 


The  Understanding  Heart 

that  he  had  military  offices  to  perform  and 
he  had  to  summon  a  certain  kind  of 
strength  within  himself  that  enabled  him 
to  perform  those  duties.  He  needed  for- 
titude, and  because  of  that  he  sacrificed  at 
the  altar  of  Fortitude.  He  went  to  the 
war,  and  he  came  back  with  his  trophies  to 
the  temple  of  Victory.  Victory  was  not 
to  him  a  merely  human  achievement:  it 
was  won  through  co-operation  with  the 
heavenly  powers.  He  had  to  live,  to 
fight,  to  legislate,  to  administer  govern- 
ment. Each  act  of  this  Roman  citizen 
was  accompanied  by  a  certain  religious 
sentiment  which  lifted  it  into  dignity. 
That  was  what  gave  glory  and  meaning 
to  his  life.  One  of  the  highest  officers  of 
his  religion  and  of  the  state  he  called  the 
Pontifex,  the  bridge-builder.  The  title 
carried  his  mind  back  to  the  time  when 
to  build  a  bridge  across  the  Tiber  was  a 
sacred  act.  The  bridge-builder  was  a 
sacred  officer.  Except  the  bridge  were 
built  truly,  except  it  were  built  in  accord- 
So 


Work  and  Worship 

ance  with  the  highest  laws,  they  labored 
in  vain  that  built  it.  All  these  men  were 
religious  men,  with  religious  functions 
and  possibilities.  Could  a  man  be  a  loyal 
citizen  of  the  Republic  without  sharing 
in  the  supreme  ideals  of  the  Republic? 
How  could  a  man  expect  the  laws  to  be 
observed  save  as  in  some  way  he  felt  the 
law  itself  to  be  sacred  ?  To  be  a  profane 
man  was  to  be  a  traitor.  So  the  Roman 
talked  of  piety  not  as  something  that  was 
apart  from  family  life  and  from  duty  to 
the  state.  A  man  of  piety  was  the  man 
who  loved  father  and  mother  and  rever- 
enced the  laws  that  came  through  them  as 
well  as  one  who  had  the  same  sentiments 
towards  the  gods  who  were  unseen. 

In  the  modern  world  we  sometimes 
lose  this  thought  of  the  religious  signifi- 
cance of  the  whole  life.  We  are  accus- 
tomed to  the  distinction  between  the  sec- 
ular and  the  ecclesiastical.  Religion  has 
been  made  a  profession,  and  treated  as  if 
it  might  have  an  independent  life  of  its 

81 


The  Understanding  Heart 

own.  The  confusion  has  become  greater 
because  secular  methods  have  been  contin- 
ually improving  while  ecclesiastical  meth- 
ods have  been  less  subject  to  change. 

One  of  the  first  men  to  see  that  what 
is  needed  is  not  merely  a  theological  re- 
construction, but  a  new  outlook  upon 
human  life,  was  William  Ellery  Channing. 
He  saw  clearly  that  religion  must  be  in- 
terpreted not  by  ecclesiastics,  but  by  broad- 
minded  men  of  the  world.  It  must  claim 
for  its  own  the  whole  field  of  human 
activity. 

Speaking  at  the  dedication  of  the  Cam- 
bridge Divinity  School,  he  protested 
against  that "  piety  that,  like  the  upas-tree, 
makes  a  desert  where  it  grows."  He 
lamented  that  ministers  have  so  fallen  be- 
hind their  age  that  they  are  often  the 
most  determined  foes  to  progress.  "  The 
young  man  who  cannot  conceive  of 
higher  effects  of  the  ministry  than  he  now 
beholds,  who  thinks  that  Christianity  has 
spent  all  its  energies  in  producing  the 
82 


Work  and  Worship 

mediocrity  of  virtue  that  at  present  char- 
acterizes Christendom,  has  no  call  to  the 
ministry."  "  Why  is  the  future  ministry 
to  be  a  servile  imitation  of  the  past?  If 
we  live  in  a  new  era,  must  not  religion  be 
exhibited  in  new  aspects  and  in  new  re- 
lations ? "  Channing  touched  upon  the 
real  weakness  of  our  modern  religion 
when  he  said :  "  Religion  has  been  made 
a  separate  business,  and  a  dull,  unsocial, 
melancholy  business,  too,  instead  of  being 
manifested  as  a  truth  that  touches  every- 
thing human,  as  a  universal  spirit  which 
ought  to  breathe  through  and  modify  all 
our  desires  and  activities,  all  our  trains 
of  thought  and  emotion.  .  .  .  Instead  of 
regarding  it  as  a  heavenly  institution,  de- 
signed to  perfect  our  whole  nature,  to 
offer  awakening  and  purifying  objects  to 
the  intellect,  imagination,  and  heart,  to 
develop  every  capacity  of  devout  and 
generous  feeling,  to  form  a  rich,  various, 
generous  virtue,  divines  have  cramped 
and  tortured  the  gospel  into  various  sys- 
83 


The  Understanding  Heart 

terns,  composed  in  the  main  of  theologi- 
cal riddles  and  contradictions." 

We  have  only  begun  to  think  of  relig- 
ion as  the  development,  here  in  this  world, 
of  a  "  rich,  various,  and  generous  virtue/' 
We  have  been  accustomed  to  think  of 
it  as  only  one  kind  of  virtue  to  be  ap- 
proached only  in  one  way,  as  if  men  of 
one  profession  had  the  monopoly  of  God. 
The  real  religion  which  is  adequate  for 
modern  life  can  never  be  developed  by 
churchmen  alone :  it  cannot  exist  save 
as  we  get  large  numbers  of  people  to- 
gether and  make  each  person  feel  that  he 
himself  is  making  a  religion  ;  that  he  is 
bringing  to  the  church  and  to  the  world 
that  which  the  church  and  the  world  need, 
—  his  individual  insight  into  truth,  his 
ideal  of  perfection,  his  moral  and  spiritual 
enthusiasm.  We  have  to  come  back  to 
just  that  kind  of  feeling  which  made  the 
Roman  bridge-builder  a  sacred  person. 

Now  that  is  a  great  deal  to  do.  We 
have  only  begun  to  think  that  it  is  worth 
84 


Work  and  Worship 

doing  or  that  it  is  possible.  When  we 
come  to  feel  the  sacred  significance  of 
life,  we  shall  answer  the  question  whether 
it  is  possible  that  men  may  be  too  busy 
and  too  much  burdened  to  be  religious. 
Then  we  shall  see  that  the  more  work  a 
man  has  to  do,  the  more  power  he  must 
have  behind  him.  And  we  shall  see  that 
something  more  than  physical  strength  is 
needed.  We  must  use  spiritual  powers  to 
enable  us  to  do  our  simple  duty.  At  the 
very  highest,  the  life  of  a  true  man  of 
business  becomes  the  expression  of  religion. 
At  the  very  highest,  the  real  poet  cannot 
be  anything  but  religious.  At  the  very 
highest,  the  statesman  feels  himself  to  be 
an  instrument  in  the  hands  of  God.  The 
philosopher  sees  that  he  is  only  thinking 
God's  thoughts  after  him.  How  rich, 
how  various,  how  wonderful  are  these  ex- 
periences !  And  the  time  has  come  for 
us  to  recognize  that  these  form  the  very 
essence  of  religion. 

Suppose  one  were  to  preach  on  Sunday 
85 


The  Understanding  Heart 

with  sufficient  power  to  make  every  one 
go  forth  for  the  next  week  and  do  some- 
thing which  the  preacher  conceives  to  be 
the  one  service  of  God.  I  can  imagine 
that  possible.  "  We  will  forsake  our  secu- 
lar, every-day  business,"  you  say,  "and 
give  ourselves  for  a  whole  week  to  what 
this  man  says  is  God's  business."  How 
much  poorer  the  community  would  be, 
how  much  poorer  this  nation  would  be 
for  that,  because  one  man  could  tell  so 
much  less  of  what  his  neighbors  could  do 
than  each  one  could  discover  for  him- 
self. Suppose,  on  the  other  hand,  each 
person  were  to  go  forth  to  his  own  busi- 
ness, to  his  own  appointed  and  chosen 
work,  and  should  say,  "  For  this  one 
week  I  will  take  this  business  of  mine  as 
if  it  were  a  sacred  office,  as  if  God  himself 
commanded  me  to  do  this,  and  to  do  it 
the  very  highest  way  possible  for  me." 
How  much  richer  the  world  and  the  com- 
munity would  be  for  these  various  virtues, 
these  gladder  activities  everywhere  mani- 
fested ! 

86 


Work  and  Worship 

There  is  a  point  where  every  man's 
life  seems  dull,  sordid,  and  selfish. 
There  is  a  way  of  doing  his  work  which 
leaves  him  cold  toward  the  world  and 
toward  the  higher  power.  But  just  as  the 
temperature  of  the  soul  rises,  a  change 
comes,  and  that  which  once  seemed  bare 
and  mean  and  selfish  seems  to  be  one  of 
the  phases  of  the  divine  activity.  That 
is  what  religion  is  meant  to  do, —  to  lift 
out  of  its  selfishness,  its  sordidness,  and 
its  commonplaceness  any  work  which  any 
human  being  is  called  upon  to  do. 

Suppose  a  young  man  were  to  give 
himself  to  a  life  of  letters ;  were  to  say : 
"  I  am  going  to  make  poetry.  It  is  very 
hard  work.  I  must  give  my  whole  time 
to  it" ;  and  then  he  were  to  read  the  lines 
of  Shelley:  — 

"  The  breath  whose  might  I  have  invoked  in 

song 

Descends  on  me;  my  spirit's  bark  is  driven 
Far  from  the  shore,  far  from  the  trembling 
throng 

87 


The  Understanding  Heart 

Whose  sails  were  never  to  the  tempest  given. 
The  massy  earth  and  sphered  skies  are  riven  ! 
I  am  borne  darkly,  fearfully  afar  j 
Whilst  burning  through  the  inmost  veil  of 

heaven 

The  soul  of  Adonais  like  a  star 
Beacons  from  the  abode  where  the  Eternal 


The  would-be  man  of  letters  says : 
"  That  is  something  which  I  have  never 
felt, —  a  breath  that  comes  upon  me  with 
inspirations  from  above,  some  influence 
bearing  me  afar  from  the  things  of  sense. 
That  sounds  very  much  like  religion.  I 
have  no  time  for  that.  I  am  making 
poetry.  I  must  be  at  work."  Do  you 
not  see  that  that  man  has  shut  himself  off 
from  the  highest  possibility  of  his  own 
chosen  art  ?  Only  when  he  receives  some 
kind  of  inspiration  can  the  finest  work 
be  done,  and  that  inspiration  cannot  be 
described  save  in  terms  of  religion. 

Suppose  a  man  gives  himself  to  some 
science,  or  to  some  strenuous  profession, 

88 


Work  and  Worship 

and  then  reads  this  description  of  the 
mind  in  which  intellectual  integrity  has 
risen  to  the  point  of  religious  fervor :  "  In 
the  glorious  company  of  the  heroes  a 
high  rank  belongs  to  him  who,  superior 
to  frowns  and  sneers,  and  in  opposition  to 
warping  influence  of  private  friendship  or 
personal  ambition,  keeps  his  mind  chaste, 
inviolate,  a  sacred  temple  for  truth,  ever 
open  to  new  light  from  heaven  ;  and  who, 
faithful  to  his  deliberate  convictions, 
speaks  simply  and  firmly  what  his  uncor- 
rupted  mind  believes."  Every  word  here 
is  a  word  of  religion,  every  symbol  is  a 
religious  symbol.  The  ambitious  man 
says :  "  I  haven't  time  to  indulge  in  that 
sort  of  thing.  I  want  to  accumulate  facts. 
I  want  to  write  books.  I  want  to  make 
theories.  I  want  to  pass  judgment  on 
the  affairs  of  state.  I  have  a  thousand 
things  to  do  and  I  haven't  time  for  senti- 
ment. " 

Well,  if  you  haven't  time  for  that,  you 
cannot    do  what   vou  aspire  to  do.      If 
89 


The  Understanding  Heart 

your  mind  is  only  a  workshop  and  you 
are  only  a  workman,  if  there  is  no  sacred 
place  kept  inviolate  from  passion,  from 
prejudice,  from  self-interest,  then  all  your 
judgments  are  warped  and  biassed.  We 
cannot  trust  such  a  man  as  a  judge 
upon  the  bench.  We  should  not  trust 
such  a  man  to  give  judgment  in  affairs 
where  great  interests  were  concerned,  which 
involve  the  life  of  nations,  because  he  has 
not  yet  that  inviolate  mind  sacred  to  truth. 
There  must  be  a  sacred  place  somewhere. 
There  must  be  something  corresponding 
to  worship.  There  must  be  ideal  aspira- 
tions somewhere,  and,  when  you  come  to 
such  ideals,  you  come  to  the  attitude  of 
religion. 

We  go  about  our  daily  work  doing  the 
thing  we  have  to  do  and  doing  it  as  well 
as  we  can ;  then  we  come  together  with 
common  faith,  common  aspiration,  with 
recognition  of  the  underlying  meaning  of 
it  all,  hoping  that  upon  us  the  breath 
divine  may  come,  so  that  all  the  drudgery 
90 


Work  and  Worship 

may  be  transformed  into  worship,  faith, 
and  joy.  We  are  builders,  building  the 
institutions  of  society,  building  our  indi- 
vidual homes  and  our  individual  business. 
And,  as  we  build,  we  realize  that  we  may 
not  indulge  in  whims  of  our  own ;  that 
there  are  certain  great  laws  of  the  universe 
that  must  be  obeyed,  and  these  are  spirit- 
ual laws.  These  laws  involve  righteous- 
ness. When  we  build  in  defiance  of  them, 
our  structures  fall  of  their  own  weight. 
Except  the  Lord  be  with  us,  except  we 
are  with  Him,  we  labor  in  vain.  We 
cannot  draw  a  line  of  division  between  our 
work  and  our  worship  ;  but  we  must  real- 
ize that  our  work  is  not  done  well  unless 
the  spirit  of  worship  has  been  in  it  all. 

The  need  of  religion  to  the  man  of  af- 
fairs is  greater  than  it  ever  was  before ; 
for  there  are  certain  aspects  of  his  work 
that  terrify  him.  Primitive  tools,  which 
the  man  could  use,  have  given  place  to 
elaborate  machinery.  Shall  the  man  use 
the  machinery  for  his  own  purpose,  to 
91 


The  Understanding  Heart 

nurture  his  real  life,  to  aid  in  his  own  de- 
velopment, or  shall  the  machine  gain  the 
mastery  and  crush  him  ?  Everywhere  the 
machine  is  setting  the  pace. 

When  Coleridge  and  Wordsworth  were 
walking  through  Scotland,  they  came  upon 
a  steam-engine.  Wordsworth  said  that 
it  seemed  to  him  like  a  living  creature. 
"  Yes,"  said  Coleridge,  "  it  is  a  giant  with 
one  idea." 

That  is  the  terrible  thing  about  a  ma- 
chine-made civilization.  The  machine  is 
great  and  strong,  it  is  marvellous  in  its 
capacity  for  work  ;  but  no  machine,  how- 
ever intricate,  can  express  more  than  one 
idea.  The  idea  may  be  a  narrow  one 
and  fatal  to  human  happiness ;  but  what 
of  it  ?  The  machine  moves  on,  incapa- 
ble of  pity  or  remorse.  The  improved 
cotton-mill  will  turn  out  more  cotton 
cloth,  the  railway  with  heavier  rails  and 
larger  locomotives  will  transport  more 
goods  at  a  lower  cost,  the  printing-press 
will  turn  out  more  newspapers  and  books. 
92 


Work  and  Worship 

All  this  is  progress.  But  what  of  hap- 
piness and  justice,  what  of  love  and  peace  ? 
There  is  no  machinery  by  which  these 
things  are  manufactured. 

In  an  age  when  the  giant  with  one  idea 
threatens  to  become  the  master,  a  spiritual 
religion  appears  as  a  new  chivalry.  In 
transforming  work  into  worship,  it  elevates 
the  man  above  all  the  machinery  he  has 
invented. 


93 


VI 

The  Higher  Intelligence 


THE  HIGHER  INTELLIGENCE 

ONE  great  source  of  confusion  in  relig- 
ious education  arises  out  of  our  exaggera- 
tion of  the  distinction  between  intellectual 
and  moral  development.  We  delight  in 
emphasizing  the  contrast  between  good- 
ness and  wisdom.  We  treat  them  as 
if  they  belonged  to  unrelated  spheres. 
When  we  praise  a  man  for  one  set  of 
qualities,  we  often  imply  disparagement  in 
regard  to  the  others.  The  good  man, 
we  say,  is  loving,  tender-hearted,  sympa- 
thetic, just.  The  wise  man  seeks  reality. 
He  is  keen,  inquisitive,  sceptical.  He 
seeks  to  know  the  thing  as  it  is.  In  our 
ordinary  thought  we  place  the  two  charac- 
ters in  opposition. 

The  wise  man,  we  say,  is  not  necessa- 
rily or  often  good,  the  good  man  not 
often  wise.  When  we  have  any  very 

97 


The  Understanding  Heart 

important  business  which  requires  intel- 
lectual acuteness,  we  are  not  satisfied  to 
go  to  one  who  is  commended  to  us  as  "  a 
good,  faithful  soul."  We  take  it  for 
granted  that  his  moral  qualities  are 
praised  because  nothing  can  be  said  of 
his  intellectual  qualifications. 

This  antithesis  with  certain  minds  be- 
comes more  pronounced.  The  essence 
of  what  we  call  pessimism  lies  in  this, — 
that  goodness  and  wisdom  are  conceived 
not  only  as  different  things,  but  as  in 
their  nature  irreconcilable.  They  belong 
to  two  different  compartments,  and  so 
long  as  they  are  kept  apart  all  is  well. 
When  they  are  brought  together,  and  the 
wise  man  seeks  to  be  good  and  the  good 
man  seeks  to  be  wise,  then  there  is  disas- 
ter. The  pessimist  is  a  pessimist  because 
on  the  one  side  he  has  a  sensitive  con- 
science, and  on  the  other  an  acute  intelli- 
gence. It  is  in  the  attempt  to  bring  these 
two  things  together  that  he  comes  to  re- 
bellion against  the  actual  world. 
98 


The  Higher  Intelligence 

This  was  the  sting  in  the  words  of  the 
Fury  in  Shelley's  "  Prometheus  Un- 
bound":— 

"The  good  want  power,  but  to  weep  barren 

tears, 
The  powerful  goodness  want ;  worse  need  for 

them. 
The  wise  want  love,  and  those  who  love  want 

wisdom ; 
And  all  best  things  are  thus  confused  to  ill." 

If  to  be  wise  is  to  come  to  the  under- 
standing of  an  altogether  unmoral  uni- 
verse, then  for  the  wise  to  attempt  also 
to  be  good  must  result  only  in  hopeless 
misery.  According  to  this  view  the 
young  man  beginning  his  career  may 
choose  between  the  two  ideals.  He  may 
say,  I  choose  goodness.  Very  well,  shut 
your  eyes  to  facts.  Be  not  too  inquisi- 
tive to  explore  the  dark  places  of  this 
world.  Close  your  ears  to  many  of  the 
voices  that  come  to  you.  Walk  in  one 
narrow  path  with  bowed  head,  as  did  the 

99 


The  Understanding  Heart 

saints  of  old.  Mortify  not  only  body, 
but  mind  as  well.  Go  on,  and  you  shall 
go,  step  by  step,  up  your  Calvary,  that 
Mount  of  Sorrow  that  belongs  to  all  who 
would  be  over-much  righteous  in  an  in- 
different world.  Dream  your  dream,  see 
your  vision  ;  may  the  time  never  come 
when  you  shall  awake  !  The  wise  man 
looks  upon  you  as  he  looks  upon  some 
one  under  the  influence  of  an  opiate ;  who 
does  not  know  the  truth  and  whose  senses 
are  lulled  to  the  hard  reality,  and  who 
amid  the  charnels  of  the  dead  hears  the 
murmur  of  the  fountain-head.  A  good 
man  who  dreams  his  dream  of  righteous- 
ness, who  thinks  he  was  not  made  to  die, 
does  not  hear  the  fiend  voices  that  rage 
about  him.  That  is  the  utmost  that  a 
man  from  this  standpoint  can  say  to 
those  who  are  trying  to  live  a  life  of  ideal 
rectitude  in  a  world  where  they  say  ideal 
rectitude  brings  only  hopeless  misery  and 
disappointment. 

On    the   other  hand,  one    may  choose 

100 


The  Higher  Intelligence 

the  path  of  knowledge.  To  him  the  ad- 
vice is :  Beware  of  all  emotion.  The  in- 
tellect must  be  kept  cool,  indifferent  to 
the  moral  struggle.  Do  not  allow  any 
thought  of  hero-worship  to  intrude  in 
your  mind,  else  you  cannot  see  human 
life  as  it  is.  Do  not  allow  yourself  to 
be  carried  away  by  thought  of  any  final 
causes,  of  any  dramatic  movement  of  the 
world,  of  any  great  cloud  of  witnesses 
looking  down  upon  this  little  planet  of 
ours  as  upon  a  wondrous  spectacle.  See 
the  thing  as  it  is,  and  only  as  it  is.  Let 
your  intellect  expand  at  the  expense  of 
your  emotions,  which  are  only  misleading. 
To  know  the  truth  is  to  stand  as  one 
indifferent  to  love  and  hope  and  pity. 
So  at  last  do  you  become  wise.  When 
you  become  wise,  you  become  miserable. 
Your  life  is  behind  you.  Your  mind  is 
full  of  sad  experiences.  At  last  you  are 
so  wise  that  you  are  ready  to  accept  the 
fact  that  there  is  no  reasonable  outcome 
whatever,  no  adequate  explanation  for  all 


The  Understanding  Heart 

this  struggle  of  humanity.  The  good 
man,  simple-hearted,  dull  of  perception, 
strong  of  faith,  let  him  go  his  way  and 
dream  his  dream.  The  wise  man,  brave 
but  hopeless,  let  him  gather  for  himself 
the  experience  which  only  brings  to  him 
the  greater  despair. 

Now  that  is  the  result  whenever  we 
carry  out,  logically,  the  idea  that  good- 
ness and  wisdom  are  antagonistic  princi- 
ples ;  that  they  have  nothing  to  do,  the 
one  with  the  other.  The  only  escape  that  I 
can  see  is  by  leaving  this  antithesis  behind 
us  as  a  false  and  unreal  one,  and  coming 
rather  to  that  which  we  find  in  the  New 
Testament,  between  "the  wisdom  that 
is  from  above  "  and  that  which  is  from 
below.  The  contrast  here  is  not  be- 
tween a  weak  goodness  and  a  clear  intel- 
ligence ;  not  even  between  the  moral  cult- 
ure and  the  intellectual  culture.  It  is 
between  two  kinds  of  intelligence, —  what 
this  writer  describes  as  the  lower  intelli- 
gence, the  lower  wisdom,  and  what,  on 

102 


The  Higher  Intelligence 

the  other  hand,  he  calls  the  higher  wis- 
dom. The  lower  wisdom,  he  says,  is 
earthly,  sensual ;  or,  literally,  animal.  It 
is  something  that  is  our  earthly  inheri- 
tance ;  that  which  links  us  to  the  creatures 
below.  The  other  kind  of  intelligence  is 
that  which  links  us  to  God. 

It  is  "  first  pure,  then  peaceable,  easy 
to  be  entreated,  without  partiality,  with- 
out hypocrisy." 

You  will  note  that  he  has  not  here 
treated  of  what  he  calls  morality,  but 
what  he  calls  intellect.  This  is  the  kind 
of  wisdom  that  is  characteristic  of  the 
truly  developed  man.  Let  us  see  how 
this  is.  We  do  have  our  line  of  inheri- 
tance that  links  us  with  what  is  earthly 
and  what  is  animal.  The  animal  intel- 
ligence has  one  object.  It  is  to  sustain 
the  animal  life  in  its  struggle  for  existence. 
The  brain  is  developed  just  as  the  claw 
is  developed,  that  the  animal  may  secure 
its  prey.  The  animal  that  survives  and 
that  triumphs  is  the  one  that  has  this 
103 


The  Understanding  Heart 

intelligence  in  the  largest  degree.  And 
it  is  possible  to  treat  a  man  in  this  same 
fashion ;  possible  to  view  the  history  of 
human  civilization  from  this  standpoint, 
—  the  standpoint  of  the  beast  of  prey. 
The  brain  of  one  man  is  more  finely  or- 
ganized than  another.  The  man  is  crafty, 
subtle,  cunning,  far-seeing,  and  all  for  the 
sake  of  himself,  that  he  may  gain  the 
mastery  over  others.  He  is  developed 
for  the  same  purpose  that  the  tiger  is  de- 
veloped in  all  his  fearful  strength.  It  is 
possible  to  trace  this  line  of  animal  de- 
velopment, step  by  step,  to  the  stronger 
race.  It  is  possible  to  show  how  a  certain 
spurious  morality  can  grow  out  of  this  im- 
pulse. The  wolf  must  conform  to  the  law 
of  the  pack.  The  man  must  conform  to 
the  customs  of  his  tribe,  not  because  they 
are  just,  but  only  because  he  thus  is  made 
stronger  to  gain  his  own  ends,  which  are 
substantially  the  same  ends  which  the  tiger 
or  the  lion  had  before  him, —  to  get  food, 
to  destroy,  to  gratify  appetite. 
104 


The  Higher  Intelligence 

It  is  possible  to  carry  this  a  step 
further  until  it  becomes  a  very  mockery 
of  our  highest  hopes.  There  have  been 
those  who  say  that  religion  is  but  the  con- 
summation of  this  process.  The  strong 
nations  are  religious  because  they  find  that 
religion  helps  them  in  their  struggle. 
For  one  thing,  it  furnishes  them  with 
more  prey.  It  makes  the  weak  more 
ready  to  acquiesce  in  the  tyranny  of  the 
strong,  and  so  the  strong  always  stand  for 
religion, —  religion  for  the  other  people 
more  than  themselves.  It  is  the  lure 
which  draws  the  weak  to  their  own  de- 
struction, and  through  their  destruction  to 
the  greater  power  and  glory  of  the  few. 

Now,  however  you  refine  upon  this, 
however  you  try  to  throw  a  veil  of  sanc- 
tity over  it,  the  stubborn  fact  remains 
that  this  process,  through  and  through, 
has  had  an  object  which  is  animal,  and  not 
human.  It  is  an  object  which  would  ap- 
peal to  the  intelligent  tiger,  not  to  the 
spiritual  mind  of  man.  When  you  ad- 
105 


The  Understanding  Heart 

mire  this  development  into  strength  that 
is  cruel,  into  power  that  is  pitiless,  you 
can  only  feel  your  admiration  going  out 
easily  when  some  one  of  the  animal  king- 
dom is  the  object  of  it. 

The  finest  example  for  us  is  the  eagle, 
the  sublime  bird  of  prey,  rising  to  the 
lofty  heights,  with  eyes  that  pierce  to  the 
remotest  distance,  and  which  are  never 
blurred  by  mist  of  pity  or  of  wonder ; 
cold,  keen  eyes  that  from  those  heights 
are  looking  down  to  a  single  point,  and 
that  for  a  single  object.  The  eagle  from 
the  height  is  looking  down  only  for  its 
prey,  and,  when  it  finds  it,  then  all  his 
mighty  powers  are  put  forth. 

"  He  clasps  the  crag  with  hooked  hands ; 
Close  to  the  sun  in  lonely  lands, 
Ringed  with  the  azure  world  he  stands. 
The  wrinkled  sea  beneath  him  crawls ; 
He  watches  from  the  mountain  walls, 
And  like  a  thunderbolt  he  falls." 

That,  we  say,  is  sublime.     Yes,  for  the 
106 


The  Higher  Intelligence 

bird  of  prey,  that  power  exerted  uner- 
ringly  for  a  single  object;  keen,  cruel 
eyes,  strong,  rushing  wings,  claw  and 
beak,  all  united  in  one  great  power, —  for 
what  ?  —  that  that  eagle  may  devour  his 
prey. 

But  now  turn  to  human  life.  Think 
of  a  man  in  that  way.  He  is  the  result  of 
ages  and  ages  of  growth.  Every  power 
has  been  developed  in  him  slowly  through 
the  generations.  At  last  one  man  rises 
above  his  fellows  into  the  clearer  air.  His 
is  the  wider  view.  His  eyes  are  keen. 
He  sees  afar.  His  strength  is  well  knit. 
Then  he  looks  down  and  sees  some  help- 
less creature;  and  with  all  his  force 
brought  together,  with  one  quick  swoop 
upon  his  victim,  he  descends,  like  a  thun- 
derbolt, to  destroy.  Is  that  sublime  to 
you?  Oh,  that  is  pitiful!  —  beyond  all 
imagination,  pitiful !  We  ask,  can  it  be 
that  all  this  development  has  been  only 
for  that?  That  this  man  may  grow 
strong,  and  because  he  is  strong,  obeying 
107 


The  Understanding  Heart 

the  impulse  of  a  narrow  will,  use  his 
strength  for  himself  alone  ?  Is  the  eye 
of  man  but  the  eagle  eye,  piercing  and 
pitiless,  searching  out  its  prey,  or  was  it 
meant  for  the  open  window  through  which 
the  majesty  and  sublimity  of  the  universe 
might  enter?  Was  the  brain  of  man  in- 
tended only  to  make  cunning  plans  for 
selfish  ends  ? 

"  Not  for  this 
Was  common    clay    ta'en    from    the    common 

earth, 
Moulded  by  God,  and  tempered  with  the  tears 

of  angels 
To  the  perfect  shape  of  man." 

Not  only  when  we  look  upon  such  a 
man  do  we  feel  such  a  revulsion,  but  the 
man  himself,  when  he  has  grown  in  self- 
ish strength  and  has  put  forth  all  his 
power,  shrinks  appalled  from  his  own 
success.  Never  has  there  been  such  des- 
pair as  among  men  who  have  gained  all 
that  they  selfishly  desired.  Mr.  Howells 
1 08 


The  Higher  Intelligence 

has  pictured  such  despair, —  the  utter  dis- 
comfiture of  the  selfishly  successful  man : 

"  If  He  could  doubt  on  His  triumphant  cross, 
How  much  may  I,  in  the  defeat  and  loss 
Of  seeing  all  my  selfish  dreams  fulfilled, 
Of  having  lived  the  life  I  willed, 
Of  being  all  that  I  desired  to  be, 
My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  Thou  forsaken 
me  ? " 

A  man  forsaken  when  he  has  reached 
the  very  summit  of  his  desire, —  is  he  the 
wise  man  ?  Nay,  does  he  not  stand  as  a 
fool,  self-convicted  before  the  face  of  God 
and  man  ?  This  line  of  selfish  and  sensual 
development  leads  to  the  time  when  the 
man  stands  refined,  cultivated,  strong,  but 
with  only  the  selfish,  brutal  impulse  back 
of  it  all.  This  wisdom  is  earthly,  animal, 
devilish,  because  as  the  fruition  of  it  all 
we  have  before  us  at  last  only  "  a  glorious 
devil,  large  of  heart  and  brain." 

It  is  when  the  man  stands  shuddering 
at  the  sight  of  his  own  success  that  he 
109 


The  Understanding  Heart 

asks,  Is  there  not  another  kind  of  wis- 
dom, another  development  of  all  our  facul- 
ties ;  an  end  worthy  of  our  power  ?  And 
the  answer  is  that  there  is  such  a  wisdom. 
It  is  not  the  wisdom  of  the  strong  brute, 
cunning  and  insistent ;  it  is  not  the  wis- 
dom of  the  narrow-minded  savage,  sly 
and  crafty :  it  is  the  wisdom  of  the  son  of 
God,  who  recognizes  God's  will,  and 
stands  ready  to  do  it.  That  is  what  his 
mind  is  for.  To  be  freely  and  fully  de- 
veloped, not  to  be  childishly  secluded, 
but  to  do  the  proper  work  of  a  man. 

I  think  we  must  come  back  again  to 
something  of  the  old  Greek  love  of  wis- 
dom, as  Socrates  understood  it ;  the  old 
Hebrew  love  of  wisdom,  as  we  have  it  in 
the  books  of  their  sages  ;  something  of 
this  New  Testament  idea  of  wisdom,  with 
its  development  of  all  human  faculties  in 
grace  as  well  as  in  strength.  It  is  not  a 
mere  instrument  to  be  used,  it  is  a  revela- 
tion of  the  higher  purposes  of  existence. 
The  man  stands  where  he  sees  the  end  of 

no 


The  Higher  Intelligence 

his  life.  His  intelligence  enables  him  to 
discover  the  beauty  and  wonder  of  the 
world ;  to  understand  something  of  its 
laws  which  lie  below,  and  which  control 
all  human  action  ;  to  learn  the  principles 
by  which  to  govern  himself  and  to  de- 
velop himself.  He  knows  that  his  mind 
was  given  him  in  order  that  he  may  learn 
to  sympathize  with  other  minds  ;  to  enter 
into  their  temptations  and  to  share  in 
their  triumphs.  He  knows  that  he  is 
here,  not  merely  that  he  himself  may  eat 
and  drink  and  get  gain,  but  that  the  gen- 
erations that  are  to  come  may  live  saner 
and  happier  lives.  He  sees  the  need  of 
the  development  of  will,  but  not  the  will 
that  is  obstinate,  but  the  will  that  is  gentle 
and  easy  to  be  entreated, —  the  good-will 
which  brings  peace  on  earth.  It  is  not  all 
to  him  a  sombre  world.  There  is  room 
in  it  for  laughter,  for  humor,  for  wit,  but 
no  place  for  scorn.  There  is  need  in 
this  world  for  humility.  When  he  has 
learned  all  he  can  learn,  when  he  has 


The  Understanding  Heart 

developed  himself  to  his  highest,  he  rec- 
ognizes most  clearly  his  own  limitations. 
He  stands  reverently,  wisely,  before  the 
mystery  of  being,  not  despairing,  but  be- 
lieving, facing  courageously  that  which  is 
before  him. 

To  understand  this  world,  with  its  sor- 
rows, with  its  life,  with  its  struggles,  with 
its  temptation,  with  its  ultimate  triumph, 
—  this,  and  not  to  satisfy  the  animal  pas- 
sions, is  wisdom  ;  and  out  of  this  wis- 
dom, which  comes  when  heart  and  brain 
are  united  in  search  for  the  divine  ele- 
ment, comes  the  justification  of  our  lives. 

To  such  a  man  conscience  does  not 
stand  on  one  side  and  reason  on  the 
other.  It  has  been  the  glory  of  his  life 
that  from  the  beginning  they  have  been 
united  in  one  sweet  reasonableness.  Out 
of  the  lower  intelligence  comes  perpetual 
strife.  As  men  rise  into  the  higher  intel- 
ligence, co-operation  in  all  good  works 
is  possible ;  "  and  the  fruit  of  righteous- 
ness is  sown  in  peace,  of  them  that  make 
peace." 

112 


VII 

Moral  Discipline 


MORAL   DISCIPLINE 

How  far  is  it  really  possible  for  any  one 
to  prepare  for  the  great  crises  of  life? 
We  go  on  day  after  day  in  an  uneventful 
way,  with  commonplace  duties  and  sim- 
ple enjoyments,  and  then  suddenly  there 
comes  a  time  when  the  whole  order  of  our 
life  is  overthrown.  Some  emergency 
arises  demanding  unusual  power.  The 
daily  routine  is  broken  up,  and  we  are 
called  upon  to  make  some  great  choice, 
something  which  is  to  determine  all  our 
future  life.  We  are  called  upon  to  bear 
some  heavy  responsibility,  to  answer  some 
hard  question,  to  endure  a  great  loss. 

Now  is  it  possible  for  one,  by  taking 
thought,  by  any  kind  of  discipline  or 
foreknowledge,  to  prepare  himself  for 
such  a  time  ?  In  one  sense  I  think  it  is 
not  possible.  If  you  mean  to  ask  whether 
"5 


The  Understanding  Heart 

we  are  able,  by  looking  forward,  to  really 
answer  the  questions  of  to-morrow,  to 
know  exactly  what  ought  to  be  done  in 
some  unfamiliar  crisis,  or  to  give  some 
distinct  response  to  a  question  which  has 
not  yet  become  urgent  to  us,  I  think  we 
must  answer  that  it  is  not  possible.  That 
which  makes  the  crisis  is  the  element  of 
surprise.  So  it  is  in  every  hour  of  great 
temptation.  When  a  person  is  called 
upon  suddenly,  he  discovers  a  weakness 
which  had  been  unsuspected.  Jesus 
stated  the  experience  of  mankind  when  he 
said,  "If  the  man  of  the  house  knew  at 
what  watch  in  the  night  the  thief  was 
coming,  then  he  would  have  watched,  and 
not  suffered  his  house  to  be  broken 
through."  But  we  do  not  know,  we 
cannot  know.  In  the  great  emergencies 
we  find  ourselves  taken  by  surprise. 

And  in  a  different  way  this  is  true  of 
those  things  which  we  know  are  inevitable. 
We  know  that  they  are  coming  some  time, 
but  the  time  and  the  occasion  are  in 

116 


Moral  Discipline 

doubt.  We  are  astonished  that  that 
should  happen  to-day  which  we  had  put 
off  to  a  vague  to-morrow.  It  is  not  easy 
for  one  generation  to  transmit  its  dearly 
bought  wisdom  to  another.  The  father 
tries  to  teach  his  son  the  lessons  which  he 
himself  has  learned  through  sad  experi- 
ence ;  but  he  is  speaking  in  an  unknown 
tongue.  The  son  hears,  but  he  does  not 
understand.  How  can  he  ?  Each  genera- 
tion has  to  face  the  same  old  questions  as 
if  they  were  altogether  new. 

Now  because  all  this  is  true,  because  at 
unexpected  times  the  great  crises  come 
to  us  and  find  us  not  ready  for  them  (in 
many  respects  surprised  at  their  appear- 
ance), there  are  those  who  draw  the  con- 
clusion that  there  is  no  real  preparation 
of  soul  possible.  "  All  things  come  alike 
to  all,"  the  author  of  Ecclesiastes  said 
sorrowfully.  There  are  some  things 
which  we  have  to  meet  and  to  bear,  some 
lessons  which  we  have  to  learn.  We  get 
through  the  hard  lessons  some  way.  We 
117 


The  Understanding  Heart 

endure  because  we  have  to  endure.  There 
is  no  escape  for  us.  Why  not,  then,  take 
each  day  as  it  comes,  not  asking  ourselves 
very  much  about  the  future,  not  seeking 
very  earnestly  any  preparation  ? 

The  answer  lies,  I  think,  in  this :  that, 
while  there  can  be  no  preparation  for  the 
future,  in  the  sense  of  clear  foreknowledge 
and  accurate  adjustment  to  a  specific 
situation,  there  is  another  kind  of  prepara- 
tion which  is  possible, —  a  preparation  not 
for  the  single  event,  but  for  every  event 
that  comes, —  a  preparation  that  goes  far 
deeper  into  our  nature  than  any  single 
experience. 

That  which  happens  to  us  in  the  moral 
and  spiritual  life  is  just  that  which  hap- 
pens to  every  educated  young  man.  The 
young  man  leaves  college,  having  spent 
years  in  discipline,  and  he  expects  to  find 
some  immediate  use  for  that  discipline. 
He  imagines  that  he  is  prepared  for 
the  distinct  work  that  he  has  to  do. 
Scarcely  a  month  has  passed  before  he  is 

118 


Moral  Discipline 

thrown  almost  into  despair.  Theory  is 
so  different  from  practice.  Questions 
which  he  had  been  asked  and  had  an- 
swered in  the  school  are  put  in  such  unex- 
pected forms  in  real  life.  All  the  circum- 
stances are  so  strange  to  him  that  he  says 
to  himself,  "  Here  is  a  problem  that  has 
not  been  solved  by  my  preparation  in 
college,  and  all  that  work  is  therefore  a 
failure." 

Is  it  a  failure  ?  The  very  way  in  which 
that  young  man  faces  his  life  shows  that 
it  has  not  failed.  His  education  indeed 
may  not  have  answered  the  specific  ques- 
tions of  practical  business  life ;  it  may  not 
have  solved  any  problem  that  is  now 
presented.  But  he  has  been  taught  to 
face  everything  that  comes  to  him  as  a 
problem^  not  as  something  to  be  left  as 
vague  as  he  finds  it,  but  as  something  to 
be  analyzed,  to  be  studied,  to  be  under- 
stood. All  these  years  he  has  been  doing 
just  that  thing.  One  problem  after 
another  has  come  to  him  that  has  at  first 
119 


The  Understanding  Heart 

puzzled  him ;  and  there  has  come  the 
habit  of  concentrating  his  thought  upon 
the  problem  of  the  day. 

When  he  recovers  himself,  he  faces  his 
new  life  in  that  way.  Here  are  practical 
problems,  just  as  before  there  had  been 
theoretical  problems,  and  he  faces  these 
things  with  intelligent  courage.  And  after 
a  little  he  finds  that  he  has  been  prepared 
for  the  successful  life,  with  the  preparation 
of  the  whole  mind,  and  most  of  all 
through  the  habit  of  bringing  to  bear  his 
intelligence  upon  the  matter  in  hand. 
The  trained  soldier  may  find  himself  in 
an  unusual  position  with  foes  strongly 
entrenched,  with  scarcely  an  idea  as  to 
how  the  battle  is  to  be  won.  But,  just 
because  he  is  a  trained  soldier,  he  has 
learned  some  things, —  that  he  must  go 
forward,  that  he  must  face  the  difficulty 
instead  of  fleeing  from  it,  that  his  business 
is  to  obey  orders,  and,  "  having  done  all, 
to  stand."  An  army,  however  unsuccess- 
ful it  is,  is  just  because  of  its  discipline 
superior  to  any  mob. 


120 


Moral  Discipline 

In  every  free  government  we  have 
crises  which  come  from  time  to  time, 
questions  for  which  there  can  be  no 
immediate  solution ;  parties  are  ranged 
against  each  other,  issues  are  joined ;  there 
is  no  willingness  on  either  side  to  com- 
promise. And  yet  in  a  nation  that  has  a 
past,  that  has  been  disciplined  in  the 
fundamental  ideas  of  freedom  and  of  law, 
people  meet  these  crises  without  dismay 
because  they  know  that  there  are  some 
fundamental  principles  common  to  all 
parties,  that  there  is  a  limit  to  party  strife. 
When  this  limit  is  reached,  the  minority 
in  some  way  must  yield.  The  majority 
must  rule  according  to  the  ideas  and  the 
principles  of  the  nation's  constitution. 
That  in  itself  is  a  triumph  :  it  is  a  tribute 
to  the  work  of  preparation  for  freedom 
which  has  gone  on. 

Is  it  not  in  this  way  that  we  see  the 
real  purpose  of  moral  and  spiritual  disci- 
pline? It  is  not  that  the  disciplined  soul 
can  answer  at  once  the  difficult  questions 


121 


The  Understanding  Heart 

that  come ;  that  the  man  whose  whole 
life  has  been  given  to  the  service  of  God 
does  not  sometimes  stand  at  a  point  where 
all  is  dark,  where  for  the  moment  he  does 
not  see  God,  or  truth,  or  the  way  of 
righteousness.  Again  and  again  he  ex- 
claims, "  Out  of  the  depths  do  I  cry  unto 
thee."  You  read  the  lives  of  the  greatest 
believers,  and  from  time  to  time  you  hear 
outcries  of  a  soul  in  pain.  This  is  the 
burden  of  the  old  Psalms:  they  were 
written  by  men  who  were  lonely  and 
heart-sick,  bereaved  and  despondent. 
And  yet  that  despondency  is  not  utter 
despair.  We  know  that  there  is  abiding 
confidence  and  peace.  We  know  that, 
when  the  man  says,  "  I  cannot  see,  I  do 
not  know,  I  look  now  upon  one  side 
and  now  upon  the  other,  and  I  do  not 
see  God,"  he  yet  believes  in  God.  He 
has  learned  to  believe  in  the  God  who  is 
not  seen,  and  in  the  peace  which  passeth 
all  knowledge. 

We  sometimes  misinterpret  that  beauti- 

122 


Moral  Discipline 

ful  text  which  tells  us  that  "  as  our  hour, 
so  shall  our  strength  be,"  as  if  when  the 
crisis  comes,  calling  for  a  great  faith  or  a 
great  virtue,  the  crisis  itself  creates  the 
power  by  which  it  is  to  be  met.  I  think 
we  do  not  find  that  ever  to  be  the  case. 
When  the  crisis  comes,  it  calls  out  what- 
ever heroism  may  have  already  existed, 
just  as  when  a  great  danger  to  a  nation 
comes  it  calls  out  the  great  man  if  the 
great  man  be  actually  there.  The  great 
man  may  have  been  unknown  before,  liv- 
ing in  some  quiet  way,  unrecognized  by 
his  neighbors,  but  then  the  call  comes, 
and  the  man  is  ready.  That  doesn't  mean 
that  he  has  suddenly  become  great.  The 
real  savior  of  the  nation  is  usually  the 
man  who  was  unknown  till  the  nation 
called,  but  he  had  always  had  just  the 
qualities  which  he  showed  in  the  time  of 
danger.  And  we  find  that  these  qualities 
are  common  qualities.  He  is  "  rich  in 
saving  common  sense,  and,  as  the  greatest 
only  are,  in  his  simplicity  sublime."  He 
123 


The  Understanding  Heart 

is  a  man  who  always  has  been  "  to  true 
occasion  true."  There  have  been  little 
occasions  that  have  called  him  heretofore : 
now  the  great  occasion  calls,  and  he  is 
true  to  that, —  that  is  all.  To  face  death, 
to  overcome  a  temptation  that  tries  the 
temper  of  the  soul,  to  do  in  some  hour 
of  trial  the  thing  that  ought  to  be  done, 
all  this  requires  a  training  in  every-day 
faithfulness. 

Wordsworth  described  poetry  as  "  emo- 
tion remembered  in  tranquillity."  Moral 
strength  may  be  defined  conversely.  It 
is  a  principle  discovered  in  tranquillity, 
and  remembered  in  time  of  emotion. 
The  great  emotion  does  not  of  itself 
give  insight.  There  are  times  when  things 
come  to  us  against  which  we  rebel.  We 
are  ready  to  "  curse  God  and  die  "  :  they 
seem  so  contradictory  to  a  divine  order 
of  things.  And  the  questions  which  we 
ask  at  such  times  are  many  of  them  ques- 
tions which  cannot  be  answered,  for  the 
very  mood  in  which  we  ask  prevents  the 
124 


Moral  Discipline 

true  answer.  Then  it  is  that  we  fall  back 
upon  memory  and  habit.  In  the  hour 
of  trial  we  resolve  simply  to  be  loyal  to 
our  own  best  insight,  to  what  we  have 
felt  and  thought  in  hours  of  tranquillity. 

Alas  for  that  soul  which  has  had  no 
hours  of  tranquillity,  and  that  in  those 
hours  has  never  pondered  the  solemn 
miracle  of  life,  has  never  asked :  "  What 
am  I  ?  What  is  my  place  in  this  uni- 
verse ?  How  am  I  to  face  my  own  igno- 
rance, my  own  limitation  ?  How  am  I  to 
strengthen  an  immortal  hope  that  shall 
be  to  me  a  help  in  the  hour  of  trouble  ? " 
Because,  when  worst  comes  to  worst,  we 
have  no  help  save  in  our  own  best.  We 
"rally  the  good  in  the  depths  of  our- 
selves." Every  great  hope  springs  from  a 
great  memory ;  every  great  decision  grows 
out  of  the  habits  of  the  soul.  Read  the 
Twenty-third  Psalm.  How  tranquilly  it 
begins :  "  The  Lord  is  my  shepherd,  I 
shall  not  want.  He  leadeth  me  in  the 
green  pastures  and  beside  the  still  waters." 
125 


The  Understanding  Heart 

That  is  the  lesson  of  experience,  that  is 
the  argument  for  whatever  of  lofty  hope 
and  cheer  there  may  be  in  the  darkest 
hour.  He  has  led  me  by  the  still  waters. 
Then  the  earnestness  of  struggle  comes. 
The  man  is  no  longer  by  the  still  waters. 
There  is  a  choice  to  make,  and  it  is  a  dif- 
ficult one.  Still  the  same  power  is  there. 
Remembering  the  still  waters,  there  comes 
the  faith  that  the  same  power  is  to  help 
in  the  more  difficult  way.  "He  leadeth 
me  in  the  paths  of  righteousness  for  his 
name's  sake."  The  man  with  all  that 
experience  of  the  quiet  life  with  God  be- 
hind him,  and  the  experience  of  the  dif- 
ficult path  of  moral  choice  (God  with 
him  in  the  quietness  and  God  with  him 
in  the  struggle),  faces  at  last  the  greatest 
struggle  of  all,  with  its  mysterious  ques- 
tioning. It  is  exactly  the  same  power 
that  must  be  here,  and  the  same  spirit 
in  himself  abiding  that  shall  give  the  com- 
fort. "  Yea,  though  I  walk  through  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear 
126 


Moral  Discipline 

no  evil :  thou  art  with  me."  That  is 
the  way  God  prepares  us  for  the  future, 
that  is  the  way  by  which  strength  comes 
when  most  we  need  it. 

Nothing  is  more  painful  than  to  try 
to  speak  to  an  unprepared  soul  in  a  time 
of  personal  trial.  What  can  one  say  to 
one  who  has  lived  selfishly,  measured  all 
things  by  a  worldly  standard,  clung  self- 
ishly to  friends,  to  life  itself,  never  learned 
what  disinterestedness  means,  nor  the  calm 
which  comes  through  the  habitual  con- 
sciousness of  an  eternal  power?  Then, 
when  that  which  the  soul  clung  to  is  taken 
away,  there  comes  the  sudden  bitter  cry : 
"  Why  has  all  this  evil  come  upon  me  ? 
Why  am  I  singled  out  for  sorrow  and 
for  loss  ?  Who  shall  justify  the  ways  of 
God  to  me  ?  "  There  is  no  answer,  and 
there  can  be  no  answer  to  that  mood. 
It  is  the  mood  of  the  spoiled  child  that 
makes  impossible  demands.  True  wis- 
dom is  of  slow  growth.  It  comes  to  one 
who  from  the  beginning  has  faced  steadily 

T27 


The  Understanding  Heart 

the  actual,  and  has  interpreted  it  in  the 
light  of  the  ideal.  He  has  taken  account 
of  sorrow  and  change.  He  has  behind 
him  the  experience  of  trial  and  of  victory. 
He  began  with  the  religion  of  the  child, 
in  quietness  and  in  joy,  with  uncontra- 
dicted  faith,  walking  with  the  Eternal, 
then  growing  steadily  in  faith  and  strength 
through  the  battles  won,  and  at  last  fac- 
ing the  supreme  emergency.  One  who 
has  thus  lived  is  prepared  for  all  that 
comes.  He  says :  "  Ever  as  I  struggled, 
I  found  behind  me  divine  power,  and  to 
that  power  I  trust  myself  now."  Not 
as  a  surprise,  but  simply  as  the  fulfilment 
of  the  whole  life,  comes  that  great  change 
through  which  he  enters  into  the  more 
intimate  presence  of  God. 


128 


VIII 

On  the  Study  of  the  Bible 


ON  THE   STUDY   OF   THE 
BIBLE 

No  revolution  in  thought  is  more  start- 
ling than  that  which  has  taken  place  in 
regard  to  the  Bible.  What  is  the  Bible  ? 
The  traditional  answer,  which  the  founders 
of  our  great  Protestant  churches  accepted, 
had  the  advantage  of  being  simple  and 
direct.  The  Westminster  Confession,  in 
carefully  chosen  language,  declared :  cc  It 

I  pleased  the  Lord  at  sundry  times  and  i 
divers   manners,  to  reveal  Himself,   and 

3  to  declare  His  will  unto  His  people,  and 
afterward  for  the  better  preserving  and 
propagating  of  the  truth  to  commit  the 
same  wholly  unto  writing.  The  whole 
counsel  of  God  concerning  all  things  nec- 
essary for ' His  own  glory,  man's  salva- 
tion, faith  and  life,  is  either  expressly  set 
down  in  Scripture,  or  may  by  good  and 
131 


The  Understanding  Heart 

necessary  inference  be  deduced  from  Script- 
ure, unto  which  nothing  is  at  any  time 
to  be  added,  either  by  new  revelations  of 
the  Spirit  or  by  traditions  of  men." 
/  According  to  this  theory  the  Bible  is 
ja  book  altogether  free  from  error,  written 
.(by  God  himself,  through  the  agency  of 
^certain  favored  saints.  It  is  no  wonder 
that,  so  long  as  this  opinion  was  received 
without  question,  the  Bible  was  the  most 
interesting  book  in  the  world.  Those 
textual  discussions  which  to  us  seem  so 
dry  were  once  full  of  most  intense  life. 
The  study  of  the  universe  could  not  com- 
pare with  the  study  of  the  Scriptures. 
God  indeed  had  made  the  universe,  but 
it  was  vast  and  perplexing,  full  of  con- 
tradictions. The  universe  was  a  puzzle ; 
but  in  the  Bible  God  had  given  us  the 
key  to  it.  Would  we  get  at  the  essential 
truth  concerning  our  own  origin  and  des- 
tiny, here  we  might  find  it  written  down 
in  infallible  words.  There  was  no  need 
to  urge  people  to  search  the  Scriptures. 
132 


On  the  Study  of  the  Bible 

Such  a  mine  of  rich  ore,  or  rather  such 
a  treasure-house  full  of  the  unalloyed 
gold  of  truth,  it  would  be  the  most  trans- 
parent folly  to  neglect. 

But  all  this  has  been  changed.  The 
Bible  stood  against  the  attack  of  its  ene- 
mies ;  but  the  theory  of  its  infallibility 
has  been  undermined  through  the  patient 
investigations  of  its  friends.  No  pious 
sophistry  can  conceal  the  plain  fact  that 
a  book  in  which  unmistakable  errors 
have  been  discovered  cannot  be  infallible. 
Marks  of  human  limitation  appear  every- 
where. The  theory  of  a  book  miracu- 
lously perfect  in  all  its  parts  breaks  down. 
The  present  tendency  of  the  defenders 
of  the  old  doctrine  is  to  assert  infallibility 
only  in  regard  to  what  cannot  be  tested. 
The  Scriptures,  as  we  now  have  them, 
''\  we  are  told,  may  contain  errors,  but  we 
are  bidden  to  believe  that  the  original 
manuscripts  were  inerrant.  A  more  ab- 
surd refuge  for  a  discredited  dogma  could 
scarcely  be  imagined. 
133 


The  Understanding  Heart 

C^  But  what  remains  of  the  Bible  when 
}  the  doctrine  of  its  miraculous  origin  and 
authority  is  given  up?  Many  people 
throw  it  aside  altogether.  This  is  natural 
'  enough.  In  the  church  of  the  Latter 
Day  Saints  the  Book  of  Mormon  is  ac- 
cepted as  a  direct  revelation  from  God, 
and  is  studied  reverently ;  but,  when  one 
comes  to  disbelieve  the  story  of  its  origin, 
the  book  is  thrown  aside.  The  reason 
is  that  it  has  in  itself  no  value.  But  is 
this  true  in  regard  to  the  Bible  ? 

The  verdict  of  the  most  competent 
critics  is  that  it  is  not  true.  They  find 
an  intrinsic  value,  which  makes  it  al- 
together independent  of  the  stamp  which 
the  Church  has  put  upon  it.  After  all 
deductions  have  been  made,  we  must  admit 
that  there  is  that  in  these  writings  which 
still  challenges  the  attention  of  the  world. 

Let  us  frankly  admit  the  human  limita- 
tions. The  Bible  is  a  human  book  and 
had  a  natural  growth.  But,  unless  we 
have  a  very  poor  idea  of  humanity,  this 


On  the  Study  of  the  Bible 

will  not  make  us  turn  away  with  con- 
tempt. We  may  here  see  the  diviner 
side  of  humanity.  We  may  see  it  strug- 
gling upward  through  its  ignorance  and 
its  sin  into  a  purer  air.  We  may  hear 
its  song  of  triumph  as  it  catches  sight  of 
its  far-off  goal. 

The  Bible  is  the  literature  of  a  little 
nation ;  but  it  was  a  nation  with  a  peculiar 
genius  for  religion.  Within  the  narrower 
limits  of  the  ancient  world  the  life  of  a 
nation  sometimes  turned  in  one  direction, 
and  produced  masterpieces  which  later 
ages  have  not  equalled.  Many  have  been 
the  advances  in  knowledge  since  the 
days  of  Plato,  but  our  busy,  many-sided 
modern  life  has  found  no  substitute  for 
the  great  works  and  great  thoughts  of 
Greece.  The  fire  still  burns  on  the  old 
altars,  and  thither  pilgrims  go  to  light 
their  torches.  Such  fire  remains  also  on 
the  ancient  altars  of  Israel. 

What  may  one  expect  to  find  in  the 
Bible?  If  he  expects  a  final  answer  to 
i3S 


The  Understanding  Heart 

every  question,  he  will  be  disappointed. 
What  he  may  find  is  a  vivid  record  of  the 
growth  of  religion, —  a  record  written  "at 
sundry  times  and  in  divers  manners," 
but  always  with  power.  It  is  the  story 
of  religious  development  given  by  eye- 
witnesses of  the  progress. 

He  may  find  traditions  of  remote 
antiquity,  glimpses  of  holy  men,  seen 
through  mists,  walking  with  God  along 
the  far  mountain  summits  of  time.  Per- 
haps he  may  hear  words  of  lofty  cheer 
from  those  who  had  not  yet  lost  "  the 
large  utterance  of  the  early  gods."  Trac- 
ing the  history,  he  may  learn,  not  simply 
how  individuals,  but  how  nations  grow 
into  spiritual  life  and  faith ;  how  from 
crudest  nature-worship  they  grow  into  the 
thought  of  God  as  the  "  high  and  lofty 
one  who  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose  name 
is  holy  " ;  how  through  ages  of  patient 
endurance  the  thought  grows  tenderer, 
until  at  last  the  Eternal,  who  loves  righte- 
ousness, becomes  also  the  Father,  who 
136 


On  the  Study  of  the  Bible 

loves  even  his  most  sinful  children.  Here 
one  may  watch  the  growth  of  ideals  of 
human  greatness  as  the  procession  passes 
down  the  ages.  Nomadic  chieftains,  wan- 
dering over  the  deserts  and  building 
altars  by  the  way  ;  border  warriors  lifting 
hands  yet  red  with  blood  in  prayer  to 
their  tribal  God;  Oriental  despots,  pas- 
sionate, vindictive,  yet  with  a  not  unreal 
halo  of  sainthood  around  their  heads ; 
wild-eyed  hermits,  issuing  from  the  fast- 
nesses of  the  rock  and  pronouncing  the 
doom  of  princes  with  a  stern  "  Thus  saith 
the  Lord " ;  preachers  of  righteousness, 
denouncing  alike  the  evils  of  temple  and 
court  and  market-place,  and  declaring  a 
God  who  despised  burnt-offerings  and 
sought  only  the  contrite  heart;  exiles  in 
a  far  country,  dreaming  of  the  new  king 
and  the  better  country.  At  last,  in  the 
fulness  of  time,  through  numberless  dis- 
appointments, the  old  ideals  of  earthly 
glory  fade  away  and  the  nation  comes  to 
recognize  a  new  order  of  excellence, —  the 
137 


The  Understanding  Heart 

excellency  of  a  manhood  clothed  with 
humility  and  crowned  with  suffering,  as 
Israel  finds  its  highest  ideal  in  "a  man 
of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief." 

Here  one  may  meet  with  almost  every 
phase  of  individual  experience.  Israel  had 
no  genius  for  abstract  philosophy.  There 
was  no  Academy  in  Jerusalem,  no  Plato, 
no  Aristotle.  But  for  life-philosophy, 
the  results  wrought  out  by  the  personal 
struggles  of  men  left  alone  with  their  own 
sorrows  and  seeking  a  way  out  of  them, 
I  know  not  where  we  can  find  a  parallel 
to  these  Scriptures.  "  No  man  without 
trials  and  temptations,"  said  Luther,  "  can 
attain  to  a  true  understanding  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures."  It  needs  not  so  much 
critical  scholarship  as  personal  experience, 
to  interpret  these  tragedies  of  the  soul. 

We  talk  of  the  simplicity  of  the  Greek 
drama,  with  its  few  actors  and  its  relentless 
unfolding  of  destiny.  But  simpler  still 
is  the  Hebrew  drama.  In  Job  we  see  the 
stricken  sufferer  and  his  would-be  com- 
138 


On  the  Study  of  the  Bible 

forters  facing  the  unsolved  problem  of 
sorrow,  with  only  the  passionless  calm  of 
the  desert  for  a  background,  until  from 
the  whirlwind  comes  the  voice  of  the 
Eternal  rebuking  alike  the  wild  repining 
of  the  sufferer  and  the  cold  consolations 
of  his  friends. 

In  the  book  of  Ecclesiastes  we  may 
study  the  workings  of  the  mind  of  an 
Oriental  sceptic.  He  doubts  whether  life 
is  good ;  he  has  no  faith  in  immortality, 
nor  in  human  wisdom,  nor  in  any  lasting 
success.  But  in  the  storm  of  doubt  his 
soul  is  held  by  one  anchor,  his  conviction 
that  there  is  a  God.  He  is  a  deist,  and 
his  conviction,  though  too  colorless  to 
greatly  cheer  him,  at  least  keeps  him  from 
absolute  despair.  "  Let  us  not  be  over- 
much wise,"  he  says,  "  nor  over-much 
righteous  " ;  but,  after  all,  there  is  a  God, 
and  it  is  better  to  keep  his  command- 
ments. 

How  like  a  step  into  the  sunlight  it  is 
to  come  out  of  the  dark,  close  room, 
139 


The  Understanding  Heart 

where  the  world-weary  philosopher  sits 
brooding,  into  the  temple  courts  where 
we  hear  the  sweet  assurance  of  the  Psalms, 
or  into  the  market-places  where  the  lis- 
teners are  thrilled  by  the  generous  ardor 
of  the  prophets  !  Here,  indeed,  are  words 
brimming  over  with  eternal  life.  Nations 
come  and  go,  but  the  songs  sung  on  the 
Judean  hills,  centuries  before  the  Caesars, 
have  not  lost  their  power  to  make  melody 
in  the  heart.  They  never  grow  obsolete, 
these 

u  Swallow  flights  of  song  that  dip 
Their  wings  in  tears,  and  skim  away." 

Nor,  while  there  are  rulers  who  refuse  to 
do  justice,  and  there  are  rich  men  who 
grind  the  faces  of  the  poor,  and  the 
multitude  prefers  private  gain  to  the  pub- 
lic good,  will  the  prophets  become  obso- 
lete. Still  we  hear  them  crying  as  of  old 
against  false  princes  and  false  priests  and 
false  people :  "  Thou  art  a  land  that  is 
not  cleansed;  her  priests  have  violated 
140 


On  the  Study  of  the  Bible 

my  law  and  profaned  my  holy  things; 
her  princes  in  the  midst  of  her  are  like 
wolves  ravening  the  prey,  to  shed  blood, 
and  to  destroy  souls,  and  to  get  dishonest 
gain.  The  people  of  the  land  have  used 
oppression,  and  exercised  robbery,  and 
vexed  the  poor  and  needy;  yea,  they 
have  oppressed  the  stranger  wrongfully." 
When  all  goes  well,  and  we  are  at  ease 
in  our  little  Zions,  these  writings  seem 
enigmatical,  but  in  times  of  moral  awak- 
ening men  instinctively  turn  to  them  and 
understand  them.  So  Jesus  at  the  begin- 
ning of  his  ministry  turned  to  the  prophet 
who  wrote  of  the  glad  tidings  to  the  poor. 
So  in  the  midst  of  Roman  persecution  a 
half-frenzied  Christian  heard  over  the  new 
Babylon  of  the  West  the  prophetic  doom 
upon  an  unrighteous  civilization,  and  cried 
exultingly :  "  Babylon  is  fallen  !  is  fallen !  " 
So  to  the  prophets  ^Chrysostom  turned 
when  he  would  rebuke  the  corruption  of 
the  Eastern  Empire ;  and  Savonarola  when 
he  would  bring  fickle  Florence  to  repent- 
441 


The  Understanding  Heart 

ance ;  and  the  old  words  came  unsought 
to  Theodore  Parker  as  he  saw  the  lava 
torrent  of  wrath,  uncooled  by  the  ages, 
rolling  down  upon  all  oppressors. 

Were  the  prophecies  fulfilled?  Yes? 
a  thousand  times.  As  often  as  the  justice 
of  the  universe  is  vindicated  and  the 
refuges  of  lies  swept  away,  as  often  as 
a  new  word  of  cheer  comes  to  the  poor, 
so  often  it  can  be  said,  "  This  day  is  this 
scripture  fulfilled  in  your  ears/'  In  the 
new  experience  the  old  words  live  again, 
and  we  realize 

u  From  what  agonies  of  heart  and  brain, 
What  exultations  trampling  on  despair, 
What  tenderness,  what  tears,  what  hate   of 
wrong," 

they  came. 

Such  are  the  Scriptures,  the  records  of 
a  gifted  race  in  its  search  after  God,  a 
literature  whose  central  thoughts  are  right- 
eousness and  worship.  We  cannot  neglect 
them  without  loss  to  ourselves.  The 
142 


On  the  Study  of  the  Bible 

Bible  must  take  its  place  as  a  part  of  the 
world's  literature,  but  we  may  be  sure 
that  it  will  be  a  high  place.  No  serious 
criticism  has  affected  the  estimate  of  its 
intrinsic  value.  The  flippant  jests  of 
those  who  treat  it  with  scorn  have  influ- 
ence only  with  those  who  are  ignorant  of 
its  real  history. 

Was  the  Bih|e.  inspired  ?  Our  answer 
must  depend  on  what  is  meant  by  inspira- 
tion. One  who  believes  that  every  good 
gift  is  from  above,  and  that  the  unfolding 
of  intelligence  is  itself  a  revelation,  is  not 
averse  to  the  idea  of  inspiration  which  the 
author  of  the  Wisdom  of  Solomon  gives : 
"I  myself  am  a  mortal  man  like  to  all. 
...  I  called  upon  God  and  the  spirit  of 
Wisdom  came  to  me.  I  loved  her  above 
strength  and  beauty.  .  .  .  For  Wisdom 
is  more  moving  than  any  motion.  She 
is  the  breath  of  the  power  of  God,  a 
pure  influence  from  the  glory  of  the 
Almighty.  She  is  the  brightness  of  the 
everlasting  light,  the  unspotted  mirror  of 


The  Understanding  Heart 

the  power  of  God  and  the  image  of  his 
goodness.  She  maketh  all  things  new, 
and  in  all  ages,  entering  into  holy  souls, 
she  maketh  them  friends  of  God  and 
prophets." 

We  cannot,  in  our  thought,  confine 
this  influence  to  the  Bible,  but  we  can 
hardly  fail  to  recognize  it  there. 

As  you  read,  do  you  come  in  contact 
with  men  who  loved  wisdom  more  than 
health  or  beauty?  In  the  words  of  the 
prophets  do  you  feel  breaths  of  power 
sweeping  down  upon  you  from  sublime 
heights?  In  the  eyes  of  heroes  of  the 
antique  world  do  you  see  the  brightness 
of  the  everlasting  light  ?  In  some  sweet 
Psalm  do  you  find  new  and  nobler  mean- 
ings till  you  are  sure  that  you  are  looking 
into  the  depths  of  a  serene  soul  that  has 
become  a  "mirror  of  the  power  of  God 
and  the  image  of  his  goodness  "  ?  Then 
theories  of  inspiration  will  not  trouble 
you,  for  you  already  have  the  fact  of 
which  the  theories  have  been  attempted 
explanations. 


144 


IX 

Our  Historic  Inheritance 


OUR   HISTORIC  INHERITANCE 

THOSE  who  have  been  reared  in  a 
newly  settled  country  are  likely  to  be 
peculiarly  impressed  by  any  thing  which 
savors  of  antiquity.  The  children  of 
pioneers  make  the  most  reverent  pilgrims 
to  historic  shrines.  They  find  something 
for  which  their  souls  have  been  starving. 
To  walk  along  paths  which  have  been 
trodden  for  generations,  and  to  look  upon 
scenes  which  are  associated  with  the  lives 
of  great  men,  is  a  keen  joy.  The  land- 
scape becomes  more  beautiful  because 
poets  have  praised  it.  Turning  from 
things  which  still  are  in  the  making,  they 
feel  delight  in  all  that  has  been  softened 
by  the  touch  of  time. 

It  is  with  this  feeling  that  many  per- 
sons to  whom  religion  has  been  associated 
with  independent  thought  comes  to  the 
147 


The  Understanding  Heart 

idea  of  an  historic  church.  It  brings  some- 
thing new  into  their  lives,  and  it  appeals 
powerfully  to  their  imaginations.  They 
had  been  accustomed  to  consider  religion 
only  in  its  individualistic  aspects.  It  was 
concerned  only  with  the  salvation  of  single 
souls.  Now  they  catch  a  glimpse  of  a 
public  service  and  an  enduring  corporate 
life.  The  emphasis  is  changed  from  inde- 
pendence, with  its  jealous  insistence  on 
personal  rights,  to  a  gracious  acknowledg- 
ment of  dependence  upon  that  which  is 
larger  than  one's  self. 

The  independent  thinker  is  pioneer: 
he  has  all  the  virtues  of  the  pioneer,  but 
he  has  also  his  limitations.  It  is  a  great 
thing  for  him  to  go,  in  his  sturdy  strength, 
into  the  wilderness  and  make  a  clearing  for 
himself,  and  build  a  home  after  his  own 
plan;  but  those  who  have  been  born  in 
the  clearing  dream  of  something  more 
beautiful.  They  dream  of  the  beauty  of 
fields  which  have  been  tilled  for  ages,  and 
of  homes  which  have  been  sanctified  by 
148 


Our  Historic  Inheritance 

long  association.  When  they  are  in  this 
mood,  they  are  ready  to  listen  to  the  claims 
of  an  historic  church.  One  comes  and 
says  to  the  child  of  religious  indepen- 
dency :  "  After  all,  is  there  not  something 
very  crude  and  very  narrow  in  your  posi- 
tion? You  are  anxious  in  your  self- 
consciousness  to  tell  what  you  think 
and  what  you  feel, —  to  test  everything 
for  yourself.  You  are  very  much  afraid 
lest  you  may  be  led  to  accept  something 
which  is  not  absolutely  true :  you  have  a 
great  confidence  that  you  are  able,  by  the 
exercise  of  your  individual  reason,  to  dis- 
tinguish the  true  from  the  false.  Is  there 
not  a  good  deal  of  self-conceit  in  this,  and 
of  the  self-assertion  which  belongs  to  those 
who  have  not  measured  themselves  against 
the  great  things  of  the  world  ?  Is  it  not 
as  if  one  were  to  come  to  the  university, 
not  in  a  teachable  frame  of  mind,  not  de- 
sirous of  getting  the  benefit  of  the  tradi- 
tion of  scholarship  for  which  the  univer- 
sity stands,  but  thinking  only  of  himself 
149 


The  Understanding  Heart 

and  of  his  own  personal  opinions,  jealous 
of  his  intellectual  liberty,  and  anxious  to 
tell  what  he  has  already  thought  about 
science  or  philosophy  ?  The  answer  of  a 
riper  reason  would  be,  It  matters  very 
little  what  you  think :  the  great  thing  is 
that  you  should  be  ready  to  learn.  These 
questions  which  you  imagine  that  you  can 
settle  for  yourself  are  greater  and  more 
difficult  than  you  think.  The  profound- 
est  intellects  have  been  at  work  upon 
them.  The  first  lesson  for  you  to  learn 
is  that  of  humility.  You  must  sit  at  the 
feet  of  those  who  are  competent  to  teach 
you." 

Is  there  not  something  like  this  to  be 
said  about  religion  ?  It  is  not  a  new  thing. 
Why  should  any  one  person  think  him- 
self competent  to  pass  judgment  upon  it  ? 
The  historic  church  stands  not  for  what 
one  man  thinks  nor  for  the  opinions  of  a 
single  generation.  It  stands  for  the  ex- 
perience of  ages.  What  can  inexperience 
do  but  listen  reverently  to  its  words  of 

wisdom  ? 

150 


Our  Historic  Inheritance 

There  are  many  things  in  the  claims  of 
the  Catholic  Church,  and  in  a  lesser  degree 
in  those  of  the  Anglican  communion,  that 
appeal  to  deep  sentiments  of  the  soul. 
The  claim  of  an  apostolic  succession  in  the 
Christian  ministry  attracts  the  imagination. 
It  suggests  the  identity  of  the  life  of  the 
spirit.  It  is  a  tradition  of  piety  by  which 
the  individual  is  re-enforced. 

The  thought  of  an  historic  church 
brings  the  idea  of  a  real  communion, — 
the  communion  not  merely  with  a  little 
band  immediately  around  us,  but  with  a 
great  multitude  scattered  over  the  earth. 
There  is  something  very  persuasive  in  the 
words  of  Saint  Augustine,  speaking  of  the 
apostle  John  and  of  the  grace  which 
comes  to  those  who  look  up  f/  truly 
great  and  venerable  men.  "  This  John/' 
he  says,  "  was  one  of  those  mountains  con- 
cerning which  it  was  written,  c  Let  the 
mountains  receive  peace  for  thy  people, 
and  the  hills  righteousness/  The  moun- 
tains are  the  lofty  souls :  the  hills  are  the 


The  Understanding  Heart 

little  souls.  The  smaller  souls  would  not 
receive  faith  unless  the  greater  souls  were 
illuminated  by  wisdom.  The  hills  live 
by  faith  because  the  mountains  receive 
peace."  Only  a  very  self-conceited  per- 
son will  fail  to  feel  the  charm  of  such 
words.  We  do  not  live  merely  by  our 
own  thoughts ;  we  cannot  live  on  mere 
abstractions ;  we  long  to  see  persons  who 
are  filled  with  the  qualities  we  revere. 
Something  in  our  hearts  responds  to  the 
call  of  loyalty  and  to  the  idea  of  disciple- 
ship. 

An  historic  church,  moreover,  offers  us 
not  merely  communion  with  the  greatest 
souls  and  those  whose  opinions  we  can 
accept,  but  it  brings  us  into  a  real  fellow- 
ship with  the  great  multitudes  of  the 
lowly,  of  the  weak,  of  the  ignorant.  The 
advanced  thinker,  as  he  calls  himself,  trust- 
ing in  his  own  thought,  becoming  a  pioneer, 
and  going  out  into  the  wilderness,  is  likely 
to  cut  himself  off  from  association  with 
others,  whose  thought  may  lag  behind. 
152 


Our  Historic  Inheritance 

But  the  acceptance  of  an  historic  relig- 
ion means  sympathy  not  only  with  the 
thoughtful  and  the  progressive,  but  it 
reaches  back  through  all  the  stages  of 
superstition  and  ignorance  to  the  very 
childhood  of  the  soul,  and  it  makes  us 
feel  that  we  belong  to  a  great  family.  In 
this  great  family  are  the  children  with 
their  fairy  tales,  as  well  as  the  wise  men 
with  their  philosophy :  the  Holy  Church 
includes  them  all.  That  is  to  many  minds 
the  fascination  in  the  claims  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church.  In  this  sense  it  is  truly 
catholic :  it  has  breadth  of  fellowship  and 
a  warm  human  sympathy  from  which  our 
sectarianism  often  cuts  us  off.  Cardinal 
Newman  says :  cc  What  the  Catholic 
Church  once  has  had  she  never  has 
lost;  never  has  she  wept  over,  or  been 
angry  with,  the  times  past  and  gone.  In- 
stead of  passing  from  one  stage  of  life  to 
another,  she  has  carried  her  youth  and 
middle  age  along  with  her,  even  to  the 
latest  time.  She  has  not  changed  posses- 
153 


The  Understanding  Heart 

sions :  she  has  accumulated  them,  and 
brought  out  of  her  house  things  new  and 
old."  He  tells  us  how  the  Church  has 
not  lost  the  early  hermits,  monks,  and 
saints,  while  she  has  passed  beyond  their 
thought.  They  belong  to  the  Church 
once:  they  belong  to  the  Church  still. 
Even  though  she  has  been  the  mother  of 
a  new  race  of  men,  she  still  clings  lov- 
ingly to  those  who  went  before.  All 
these  saints  belong  to  her,  and  she  loves 
them  all. 

The  Protestant  accuses  the  Catholic  of 
spiritual  tyranny  in  setting  up  an  author- 
ity over  the  individual  conscience.  The 
Catholic  answers  that  what  the  masses  of 
men  most  need  is  not  more  freedom,  but 
rather  wise  and  firm  guidance  along  the 
upward  way.  They  are  discouraged  and 
bewildered,  and  they  need  those  whose 
word  is  definite  and  whose  faith  is  clear. 
Here  is  an  extract  from  a  sermon  of  a 
Dominican  friar  at  the  dedication  of  a 
church  for  working  people.  Speaking  of 
154 


Our  Historic  Inheritance 

the  work  of  the  order  of  Saint  Dominic, 
the  preacher  says  :  — 

"They  have  come  to  dwell  in  your 
midst  to  be  your  teachers  and  your 
friends.  Life  is  for  most  of  us  a  path 
rough  enough  and  dangerous  enough  at 
best,  and  we  often  stand  in  need  of  a 
guide  and  a  friend.  How  hard  it  would 
be  to  stand  alone  and  plod  along  alone ! 
How  gladly  do  we  welcome  the  kind, 
helping  hand  that  is  ready  to  sustain  us 
when  we  stumble,  and  to  help  us  when 
we  fall !  How  eagerly  do  we  listen  to  a 
voice  that  comes  to  encourage  us  when 
our  heart  is  sinking  and  our  courage  fails 
at  the  difficulty  of  our  work!  What  a 
help  it  is  to  find  some  friend,  kindly  and 
sympathetic,  who  can  feel  for  us  in  our 
weakness  and  even  in  our  sin,  and  help  us 
to  return  to  the  path  from  which  we  have 
strayed !  All  this  you  will  find  that  the 
sons  of  Saint  Dominic  have  come  to  do 
for  you.  They  have  come  with  a  full 
measure  of  the  great  founder's  love  of 
souls." 


The  Understanding  Heart 

The  idea  of  an  historic  church  reaching 
back  into  the  ages  when  our  civilization 
began,  and  because  it  has  such  a  history 
reaching  out  to  all  conditions  of  men,  and 
embracing  them  all,  is  one  which  is  very 
appealing.  It  is  no  wonder  that  many 
who  have  been  wearied  with  sectarianism 
should  turn  their  backs  on  modern  liber- 
alism, in  order  to  gain  what  their  hearts 
crave. 

But  is  it  necessary  to  yield  to  the 
claims  of  ecclesiasticism  in  order  to  come 
to  the  sense  of  religion  as  something  that 
is  historic  and  that  has  a  wide  fellowship  ? 

The  modern  student  of  history  dis- 
covers that  religion  as  a  spirit  and  a  life 
antedates  all  the  churches  that  are  at  pres- 
ent in  existence.  The  Roman  Catholic 
Church  is,  after  all,  modern.  In  Italy 
the  temples  of  an  older  faith,  venerable 
when  it  was  young,  have  been  awkwardly 
adapted  to  its  uses.  It  appears  as  a  new- 
comer in  the  religious  world.  When 
seriously  studied,  all  institutions  are  seen 
156 


Our  Historic  Inheritance 

to  be  made  up  of  material  older  than 
themselves.  What,  then,  is  ancient? 
What  is  venerable  ? 

The  inquiring  mind,  the  primal  awe, 
the  love,  the  courage,  the  hopefulness  of 
the  devout  spirit, —  these  are  the  elements 
out  of  which  all  religious  institutions 
came.  Here  we  have  something  ancient, 
and  at  the  same  time  something  ever 
new. 

History  gives  us  the  record  of  the  de- 
velopment of  the  higher  life.  It  is  con- 
tinuous :  there  is  a  succession  of  men  of 
the  spirit.  Religious  ideas  are  broadened 
and  purified  as  the  ages  pass.  The 
makers  of  this  history  were  men  who 
were  compelled  to  choose  between  a 
formal  and  conventional  line  of  succession 
and  one  that  was  vital  and  spiritual.  In 
making  the  brave  choice,  they  seemed  to  be 
cutting  themselves  off  from  the  past.  For 
the  moment  it  seemed  as  if  they  were 
going  into  the  desert  places.  Listen  to 
the  Hebrew  prophet  as  he  cries,  with  a 
157 


The  Understanding  Heart 

pathetic  sense  of  isolation  from  the  human, 
while  he  clings  all  the  more  closely  to  the 
divine,  "Thou  art  our  Father,  though 
Abraham  knoweth  us  not,  and  Israel  doth 
not  acknowledge  us :  thou,  O  Lord,  art 
our  Father."  That  expresses  the  feeling 
of  independency  in  religion.  It  has  a 
strong  grasp  upon  essential  truth,  but  it 
has  lost  for  a  moment  the  inspiration 
which  comes  from  a  venerable  tradition. 
The  brave  spirit,  even  in  its  worship,  has 
a  certain  sense  of  loneliness. 

Then  comes  the  other  thought,  which 
we  find  in  the  New  Testament  when  Chris- 
tianity was  just  beginning.  To  some  the 
new  faith  seemed  to  destroy  the  old  sym- 
pathies, and  to  be  the  renunciation  of  the 
old  loyalties.  Then  Paul  says,  in  effect : 
"  After  all,  are  we  not  doing  in  our  day  and 
generation  just  what  our  fathers  in  their 
greatest  moments  did?  We  talk  about 
being  cut  off  from  the  religion  of  our 
fathers,  as  if  we  no  longer  had  a  share  in 
the  glorious  memories,  as  if  we  no  longer 
158 


Our  Historic  Inheritance 

belonged  to  Abraham.  Go  back  and  see 
what  Abraham  did  in  his  day.  What  is 
it  that  made  him  venerable,  that  makes 
his  name  reverenced  still  ?  The  great 
moment  in  his  life  was  that  in  which  he 
left  his  father's  house,  and  in  obedience  to 
conscience  went  out,  he  knew  not  whither. 
That  was  the  supreme  act  of  faith  in  the 
old  patriarch.  Abraham  believed  God, 
went  directly  to  God,  obeyed  the  word  of 
truth  that  came  to  him ;  and  that  has  been 
counted  to  him  as  righteousness.  Now 
another  crisis  in  the  world's  history  has 
come.  We  must  judge  between  a  dead 
tradition  and  a  living  faith,  between  fol- 
lowing scribes  and  Pharisees  and  believ- 
ing God.  cThou  art  our  Father/  we 
say,  'though  Abraham  be  ignorant  of 
us/  Yes,  but  Abraham  is  not  ignorant 
of  us  :  Abraham  did  just  what  we  are  try- 
ing to  do."  So  Paul  argues  triumphantly 
for  simple  faith  in  God.  Those  who  be- 
lieve God  are  the  true  sons  of  Abraham. 
Do  we  not  here  find  the  real  line  of 
'59 


The  Understanding  Heart 

historic  continuity  ?  The  same  ideals  that 
wrought  mightily  in  the  past  reappear. 
The  same  kind  of  character  makes  itself 
felt  again.  The  idea  of  apostolic  succes- 
sion is  but  a  faint  and  imperfect  symbol 
of  what  has  always  been  taking  place. 

"  From  heait  to  heart,  from  creed  to  creed, 

The  hidden  river  runs : 
It  quickens  all  the  ages  down, 
It  binds  the  sires  to  sons." 

To  follow  the  main  current  is  not 
always  easy,  for  the  river  is  continually 
changing  its  channel.  We  must  seek  the 
real  enthusiasms  and  the  living  interests 
of  men,  and  not  rest  content  with  conven- 
tionalities. There  are  certain  great  causes 
which  have  power  to  enlist  the  loyal  ser- 
vice of  men,  generation  after  generation. 
They  never  become  "  dead  issues."  In 
all  the  variety  of  circumstance  they  are 
essentially  the  same. 

The  struggle  for  personal  liberty  is  one 
whose  history  reaches  back  into  the  re- 

160 


Our  Historic  Inheritance 

motest  antiquity.  The  battlefields  change 
continually,  but  the  battle  goes  on.  Al- 
ways there  are  the  two  sides.  On  the 
one  side  are  men  imbued  with  the  prin- 
ciples of  absolutism.  They  are  believers 
in  uniformity.  They  would  use  all  pos- 
sible force  to  reduce  all  things  to  their 
own  will.  On  the  other  side  are  men 
who  revere  the  soul,  and  who  believe  in 
its  free  and  direct  access  to  the  sources 
of  truth.  They  are  tolerant  of  the  va- 
riations of  thought.  They  are  hopeful, 
enthusiastic,  energetic.  They  think  of 
themselves  as  cc  soldiers  in  the  great  battle 
for  the  liberation  of  humanity." 

It  is  easy  to  recognize  the  men  who 
have  been  inspired  by  this  ideal.  What 
a  noble  succession  of  liberators !  The 
despotism  which  they  oppose  changes  its 
form  from  age  to  age.  Now  it  is  the 
usurpation  of  kings,  now  the  arrogance 
of  priests,  now  the  insolence  of  wealth. 
But  always  the  tyrant  has  been  con- 
fronted by  the  free  spirit,  which  cannot 

161 


The  Understanding  Heart 

be  bribed  or  intimidated.  It  is  the  spirit 
which  flashed  forth  in  the  reply  of  Nehe- 
miah  to  those  who  urged  him  to  give  up 
his  work,  and  seek  safety  in  the  temple. 
"  Should  such  a  man  as  I  am  go  into  the 
temple  to  save  his  life?  I  will  not  go 


in." 


Men  of  that  temper  have  conquered  for 
us  a  place  of  freedom,  and  by  men  of  that 
temper  our  liberties  are  preserved.  The 
history  of  liberty  takes  us  far  beyond  the 
confines  of  any  one  church,  and  intro- 
duces us  to  a  great  company  which  no 
man  can  number.  Each  by  his  effort  and 
willing  self-surrender  has  added  some- 
thing to  our  heritage. 

Or  take  the  conception  of  religion  not 
as  a  dogma  or  a  ritual,  but  as  an  interior 
joy  and  peace,  a  spiritual  communion. 
This  also  has  had  its  line  of  development. 
There  is  a  history  of  simple  piety.  To 
this  line  belong  poets  like  Whittier,  and 
preachers  like  Channing,  and  mystics  like 
Tauler  and  Thomas  a  Kempis,  and  saints 
162 


Our  Historic  Inheritance 

like  Francis  of  Assisi  who  needed  not  to 
be  canonized.  We  follow  the  line  of  suc- 
cession till  we  come  to  the  hill  of  the 
beatitudes,  and  listen  to  the  blessing  upon 
the  pure  in  heart  who  see  God.  And  the 
line  did  not  begin  there.  Jesus  recog- 
nized the  type  when,  looking  upon  Na- 
thanael,  he  said,  "  Behold  an  Israelite, 
indeed,  in  whom  is  no  guile." 

Or  it  may  be  that  your  chief  interest 
is  in  the  practical  application  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  religion  to  social  life.  In  phil- 
anthropy and  in  the  eager  desire  for  jus- 
tice, you  see  something  that  evokes  your 
enthusiasm.  Here,  again,  you  are  on 
historic  ground.  You  are  standing  where 
two  streams  meet, —  the  stream  of  ethics 
and  the  stream  of  religion.  From  the 
beginning  we  may  see  men  who  seek 
justice,  and  we  may  see  men  who  walk 
humbly  before  their  God.  At  last  the 
two  impulses  blend,  and  you  find  those 
who  see  in  righteousness  the  truest  wor- 
ship. Out  of  the  attempt  to  unite  these 
163 


The  Understanding  Heart 

two  elements  have  come  the  revolutions 
and  reformations  which  make  so  large  a 
part  of  the  story  of  religion.  The  work 
is  still  unfinished,  it  is  the  uncompleted 
task  which  each  generation  leaves  to  that 
which  follows  it. 

Over  against  the  idea  of  one  historic 
church,  monopolizing  all  that  is  sacred, 
stands  the  immeasurably  greater  idea  of 
historic  religion.  It  is  the  difference  be- 
tween the  perennial  stream  and  its  tem- 
porary channel.  When  once  we  conceive 
of  the  universality  of  the  religious  senti- 
ment, its  naturalness  and  its  inevitable- 
ness,  we  no  longer  think  it  possible  to 
limit  its  manifestation  to  any  one  institu- 
tion. All  exclusive  claims  savor  of  sec- 
tarianism. Our  real  allegiance  must  be 
to  the  church  invisible  which  is  ever  or- 
ganizing itself  anew  to  meet  the  demands 
of  the  new  day. 


164 


X 

How  Religion  is  Organizing  Itself 


HOW  RELIGION  IS  ORGANIZ- 
ING ITSELF 

WHEN  we  turn  from  the  history  of  the 
triumphs  of  religion  in  the  past  to  its 
manifestation  in  contemporary  life,  we  are 
likely  to  be  discouraged.  The  first  im- 
pression is  that  of  a  decadent  influence. 
Once  all  human  activities  were  under  the 
immediate  direction  of  a  spiritual  authority. 
For  the  greater  glory  of  God  and  under 
the  rule  of  the  church  all  that  concerned 
the  higher  life  was  done.  Pictures  were 
painted,  schools  were  established,  books 
were  written,  works  of  charity  were  under- 
taken, all  from  one  motive.  There  was 
close  connection  between  prayer  and 
labor.  A  great  spiritual  empire  was  ac- 
knowledged. 

The  movement  of  the  last  three  centu- 
ries has  been  away  from  this  organization 
167 


The  Understanding  Heart 

which  had  the  church  for  its  centre.  The 
several  arts  and  sciences  have  one  after 
another  declared  their  independence  of 
ecclesiastical  control.  This  process  of 
secularization  has  gone  on  till  it  has  in- 
cluded the  two  forms  of  activity  which 
seemed  peculiarly  to  belong  to  the 
church, —  education  and  charity.  A  gen- 
eration ago  the  president  of  a  college  was 
almost  necessarily  a  clergyman.  To-day 
the  profession  of  teacher  has  no  connec- 
tion with  the  ecclesiastical  order.  The 
public  schools  and  the  undenominational 
colleges  have  flourished.  The  institutions 
under  churchly  control  are  likely  to  as- 
sume an  apologetic  attitude,  as  if  they 
were  more  or  less  under  suspicion.  Mod- 
ern philanthropy  boldly  criticises  the 
methods  of  alms-giving  which  were  prac- 
tised by  the  saints,  and  it  has  established 
new  standards  of  its  own. 

What  does  all  this  mean  from  the  stand- 
point of  the  believer  in  religion  ?  If  we 
identify  religious  organization  with  some 

1 68 


How  Religion  is  Organizing  Itself 

form  of  ecclesiasticism  with  which  we 
happen  to  be  familiar,  then  it  means  that 
our  civilization  is  rapidly  drifting  away 
from  all  that  is  spiritual,  and  is  becoming 
materialized.  It  would  seem  as  if  the 
old  ideal  of  the  kingdom  of  God  were 
fading  away. 

But  is  this  the  view  of  the  understand- 
ing heart,  the  heart  that  clings  to  the 
things  that  are  sacred  ? 

We  must  free  ourselves  from  a  mechan- 
ical view  of  organization,  and  learn  to  ap- 
preciate one  that  is  vital. 

"  For  of  the  soul  the  body  form  doth  take ; 
For  soul  is  form,  and  doth  the  body  make." 

We  are  not  concerned  with  the  fortunes 
of  the  ecclesiastical  body,  but  with  the 
manifestation  of  the  soul.  In  what  form 
does  the  soul  organize  itself?  This  is 
the  question  which  must  be  asked  anew 
of  each  age.  We  must  not  expect  the 
forms  to  be  repeated,  for  each  age  has  its 

own  body. 

169 


The  Understanding  Heart 

Christianity  in  the  apostolic  age  organ- 
ized itself  in  a  simple  and  effective  fashion 
for  its  missionary  work.  It  was  not  a 
contrivance :  it  was  a  growth.  Later  on, 
when  dreams  of  world-wide  dominion 
came,  the  ambitious  thoughts  took  form  in 
an  elaborate  system  of  priestcraft.  When 
the  desire  came  for  a  clear  understanding 
of  its  faith,  there  was  the  organization  of 
dogma  in  bodies  of  divinity.  When  as- 
cetic ideals  were  dominant,  there  was 
the  organization  of  monasteries  and  of 
all  kinds  of  brotherhoods.  With  the 
awakened  thought  of  the  Reformation 
era  came  the  impulse  to  free  investigation, 
and  the  organization  of  new  sects  was 
inevitable. 

What  are  the  dominant  ideals  and  the 
passionate  desires  of  the  most  earnestly 
religious  men  to-day  ?  You  will  find  that 
they  are  not  those  of  the  old  theologians, 
nor  of  the  ascetic  saints,  nor  of  the  evan- 
gelical missionaries.  There  is  no  great 
ambition  to  build  up  a  hierarchy  or  to 
170 


How  Religion  is  Organizing  Itself 

establish  a  final  theology  or  to  found  a 
sect. 

The  finest  spirits  have  other  aims. 
They  are  more  desirous  of  learning  the 
simple  truth  than  of  completing  a  system. 
They  have  a  distrust  of  any  external  au- 
thority, however  lofty  may  be  its  claims. 
They  feel  that  intellectual  humility  is 
fitting.  The  missionary  zeal,  which  was 
inflamed  by  the  thought  that  there  was 
one  form  of  faith  to  be  imposed  on  all 
men,  has  given  way  to  a  disinterested  ser- 
vice. It  seeks  not  so  much  to  convert 
men  to  a  certain  belief  as  to  develop  their 
own  possibilities  for  good. 

How  shall  this  new  impulse  organize 
itself?  We  perhaps  are  thinking  of  some 
religious  organization  of  the  past,  and  we 
look  for  it  to  be  repeated.  Where  is  the 
"  New  Orthodoxy  "  or  the  "  New  Cathol- 
icism "  ?  We  have  in  mind  a  religious 
body  standing  over  against  the  secular 
world. 

But  how  do  we  know  that  such  an 
171 


The  Understanding  Heart 

organization  would  express  the  most 
deeply  religious  spirit  of  our  time  ?  How 
do  we  know  that  the  ecclesiastical  model 
is  the  one  which  the  free  spirit  would 
choose  ? 

When  we  look  sympathetically  upon 
what  is  going  on  about  us,  we  see  that  the 
higher  life  is  organizing  itself  according  to 
inevitable  laws.  It  is  because  ideals  have 
been  purified  and  enlarged  that  the  old 
ecclesiastical  forms  have  been  found  in- 
sufficient. They  do  not  express  all  that 
is  really  desired.  They  do  not  contain 
the  answer  to  the  prayers  of  earnest  wor- 
shippers. 

I  think  it  is  evident  that  just  in  propor- 
tion as  a  man's  ideals  are  clearly  con- 
ceived he  will  find  in  some  of  the  so- 
called  secular  activities  of  the  modern 
world  the  most  natural  and  direct  way 
of  reaching  his  aim. 

Take  that  prayer  for  righteousness. 
How  shall  the  passionate  desire  for  justice 
manifest  itself?  Not  certainly  in  the 
172 


How  Religion  is  Organizing  Itself 

attempt  to  found  a  theocracy.  That  has 
been  tried.  It  is  a  primitive  form  of 
organization.  Not  in  a  rule  of  priests, 
such  as  was  seen  in  the  Inquisition.  That 
was  a  travesty  on  the  idea  of  justice. 

The  work  of  organizing  righteousness 
is  a  vaster  and  higher  one  than  that.  It 
has  required  more  than  a  special  order  set 
apart  from  the  rest  of  society.  It  has 
been  the  task  of  mankind.  Kings,  states- 
men, jurists,  plain  citizens,  all  have  united 
in  it.  The  organic  result  is  seen  in  laws, 
constitutions,  social  customs  and  restraints. 
All  have  as  their  object  the  protection  of 
the  weak  against  the  despotism  of  the 
strong.  The  work  is  yet  incomplete : 
our  social  order  has  not  yet  been  thor- 
oughly humanized  and  spiritualized. 
There  are  reforms  which  can  only  be 
accomplished  by  men  who  are  willing  to 
sacrifice  themselves  for  the  good  of 
others.  There  must  still  be  the  spirit 
of  the  martyr,  the  willing  witness  to  ideal 
righteousness.  The  field  for  this  kind 
173 


The  Understanding  Heart 

of  activity  is  in  what  we  call  secular 
life.  The  spirit  which  leads  any  man  to 
devote  himself  to  that  kind  of  activity  is 
one  that  is  in  its  very  nature  religious. 

Or  consider  the  import  of  the  prayer 
for  truth.  "  Lead  me  into  Thy  truth/' 
the  devout  soul  cries.  But  how  is  the 
answer  to  come  ?  Is  it  enough  that  one 
accepts  without  inquiry  a  formula  which 
purports  to  be  "  the  truth  "  ?  That  is  too 
easy  an  answer,  and  satisfies  only  a  super- 
ficial nature.  No,  the  real  truth  is  to  be 
discovered  only  through  preparation  of 
the  mind  for  it,  and  through  patient 
search.  It  is  too  great  a  task  for  one 
unaided  intellect.  There  must  be  an  or- 
ganization of  those  who  seek  and  find. 

The  man  of  understanding  heart  recog- 
nizes that  there  must  here  be  no  divided 
allegiance.  He  wishes  to  know  the  truth, 
and  he  is  only  confused  by  being  told 
what  is  orthodox  or  what  is  respectable. 

Who  shall  say  that  the  organization  of 
the  truth-loving  spirit  is  not  more  effective, 
174 


How  Religion  is  Organizing  Itself 

as  it  is  more  simple,  in  our  day  than  in  the 
days  when  the  school  and  the  college  were 
bound  by  creeds  and  made  mere  feeders 
of  the  church  ?  The  secularization  of  ed- 
ucation has  meant  the  casting  aside  of  an 
intolerable  burden. 

Or  consider  that  supreme  motive  of  the 
religious  spirit, — love.  Charity,  we  say, 
is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law.  To  love  our 
neighbor  and  to  seek  his  welfare  is  to 
come  to  the  very  centre  of  such  a  religion 
as  that  which  Jesus  taught. 

When  the  desire  for  service  takes  pos- 
session of  any  soul,  all  else  seems  to  be  of 
little  worth.  But  how  can  one  do  the 
most  for  those  who  most  need  him  ? 

Once  the  church  furnished  the  means 
for  all  such  service.  When  Francis  of 
Assisi  felt  pity  for  the  outcasts  stirring 
within  him,  he  found  the  old  ecclesiastical 
machinery  inadequate,  but  he  doubted  not 
that  through  the  instrumentality  of  Holy 
Church  his  work  could  be  accomplished. 

In  these  days,  philanthropy  organizes 
'75 


The  Understanding  Heart 

itself  independently.  We  have  associated 
charities,  college  settlements,  and  a  host 
of  organizations  for  special  relief.  The 
tendency  of  all  of  them  is  to  declare  them- 
selves "  non  -  sectarian."  They  do  not 
desire  to  be  the  exclusive  agents  of  any 
church. 

When  we  inquire  into  the  reason  of  this 
independence,  we  find  that  it  arises  from 
the  fact  that  philanthropy  has  become 
more  disinterested  in  its  ideals.  There 
must  be  no  ulterior  design  on  the  benefi- 
ciary. He  is  not  to  be  looked  upon  as  a 
possible  convert  or  adherent  to  church  or 
chapel.  Young  men  and  women  are 
taught  to  go  among  the  unfortunate  with 
absolute  singleness  of  heart.  They  must 
refrain  even  from  the  luxury  of  alms-giv- 
ing, if  there  is  reason  to  suspect  that  the 
alms  may  be  a  curse  rather  than  a  bless- 
ing. 

When  John's  disciples  came  to  Jesus 
asking  for  his  credentials  as  a  prophet  of 
God,  the  answer  was,  "  Go  and  show  John 
176 


How  Religion  is  Organizing  Itself 

the  things  that  ye  do  hear  and  see  :  the 
blind  receive  their  sight,  the  lame  walk, 
the  lepers  are  cleansed,  the  dead  are  raised 
up,  and  the  poor  have  the  gospel  preached 
to  them."  When  one  inquires  as  to  the 
manifestation  of  the  religious  spirit  in 
these  days,  the  same  kind  of  answer  may 
be  given.  Here  are  the  things  which  are 
being  done  by  organized  effort.  Lawless- 
ness is  repressed,  the  weak  are  protected, 
the  poor  are  not  only  fed  but  helped  to 
self-support,  the  sick  are  tenderly  cared 
for  and  restored  to  health,  the  sanctity  of 
the  family  is  preserved  by  wise  laws, 
thought  is  made  free  and  education  uni- 
versal, the  loneliness  of  the  individual 
gives  way  to  generous  fellowship,  the 
beauty  and  joy  of  the  world  are  shed 
abroad,  so  that  what  yesterday  belonged 
to  the  few  is  now  given  to  the  many. 
Is  it  too  much  to  speak  of  these  things 
as  if  they  were  accomplished  facts  ? 
They,  at  least,  are  within  the  range  of 
practical  effort.  Men  and  women  do  not 
177 


The  Understanding  Heart 

merely  desire  these  things,  but  they  are 
banded  together  in  compact  organizations 
for  these  objects.  They  are  learning  ef- 
fective means  of  accomplishment. 

To  understand  what  is  actually  being 
done,  you  must  not  look  in  any  church 
year-book.  You  must  learn  what  is  going 
on  in  courts  of  justice,  in  the  best  prisons 
and  reformatories,  in  charity  organizations 
and  social  settlements  and  asylums  and 
children's  aid  societies,  in  reform  clubs,  in 
temperance  societies,  in  public  schools,  in 
colleges,  in  trades-unions,  in  fraternal  so- 
cieties, in  voluntary  associations  for  per- 
sonal improvement  and  social  enjoyment. 
You  must  go  further,  and  look  sympathet- 
ically into  political  and  business  organiza- 
tion. You  will  find  there,  indeed,  much 
to  discourage.  You  will  find  the  organ- 
ization of  greed.  But  you  will  also  find 
the  organization  of  righteousness.  You 
will  find  clear-sighted  and  determined  men 
in  every  community  planning  for  the 
public  welfare.  You  will  find  that  the 
178 


How  Religion  is  Organizing  Itself 

Golden  Rule  is  something  more  than  a 
phrase :  some  of  the  best  business  talent 
in  the  world  is  committed  to  it.  The  idea 
of  mutual  benefit  is  not  merely  a  theory : 
an  increasing  number  of  men  are  putting 
it  into  practice.  It  is  a  rich  and  varied 
institutional  life  that  is  being  evolved. 
Could  we  but  see  it  all,  and  recognize  its 
spiritual  basis,  we  should  ask  for  nothing 
better  than  to  have  a  share  in  it.  No 
"  age  of  faith  "  of  which  we  read  can  show 
greater  fruit. 

But,  when  we  have  recognized  the 
religious  significance  and  the  organic 
character  of  modern  life,  the  question 
comes,  What  of  the  Church?  We  cannot 
recognize  it  any  longer  as  the  sole  organ 
of  the  Spirit.  It  no  longer  can  control  all 
the  forces  of  righteousness.  Must  it 
therefore  pass  away  as  something  which 
no  longer  has  a  necessary  function  ?  Or 
must  it  be  confined  to  some  narrow  and 
remote  sphere  apart  from  human  inter- 
ests ? 

179 


The  Understanding  Heart 

I  think  that  it  is  evident  that  the  Church 
is  passing  through  a  crisis.  It  can  no 
longer  be  just  what  it  has  been.  When 
the  theories  of  its  miraculous  origin  and 
authority  are  given  up,  it  can  no  longer 
over-awe  the  imagination.  It  cannot  any 
longer  claim  a  monopoly  of  the  spirit- 
ual force  of  the  community.  We  still 
read  the  chapters  wherein  Paul  writes  of 
the  mystic  body  with  its  many  members, 
to  which  we  belong.  We  realize  more 
than  did  our  fathers  how  vital  are  our 
relations  to  it,  so  that,  if  one  member  suf- 
fers, all  suffer  with  it.  We  know  that  no 
man  liveth  to  himself.  But,  when  we 
read,  we  are  not  thinking  of  any  voluntary 
and  limited  society.  The  body  to  which 
we  thus  belong  is  not  a  particular  church  : 
it  is  the  great  social  organism.  That 
which  hurts  it  is  sin :  to  be  cut  off  from 
healthful  connection  with  it  is  the  one 
schism  to  be  feared. 

The  church  is  but  a  part  of  this  body, 
just  as  the  school  or  the  political  institu- 
180 


How  Religion  is  Organizing  Itself 

tion  is  a  part.  Its  value  depends  upon 
what  it  contributes  to  the  welfare  of  the 
whole. 

And,  when  in  disinterested  fashion  we 
seek  the  welfare  of  the  whole,  do  we  not 
come  upon  the  necessary  function  of  the 
Church  ?  We  have  seen  how  the  forces 
of  a  free  humanity  are  naturally  organizing 
themselves.  Men  long  for  truth,  and 
they  build  institutions  of  learning.  They 
love  mercy,  and  the  result  is  the  manifold 
work  of  charity.  They  love  justice,  and 
justice  is  organized  in  law.  They  seek  to 
overthrow  evils  which  have  been  long  in- 
trenched in  custom,  and  they  plan  cam- 
paigns in  behalf  of  specific  reforms. 

But  it  is  possible  that  in  all  these 
special  activities  the  larger  aspects  may  be 
forgotten.  In  the  very  intensity  of  zeal 
for  a  temporary  good  the  lasting  good 
may  be  neglected.  The  conservative,  who 
would  preserve  the  tested  virtue  of  the 
past,  may  treat  the  reformer,  who  sees  a 
still  higher  virtue  to  be  won,  as  a  foe.  Is 
181 


The  Understanding  Heart 

there  not  a  fellowship  of  the  spirit  which 
should  be  preserved  ?  Is  there  not  one 
common  impulse  which  may  manifest 
itself  in  a  thousand  forms  ?  In  a  true 
organization  must  there  not  be  a  correla- 
tion of  forces  ? 

The  great  defect  of  our  present  civiliza- 
tion lies  just  here,  in  the  lack  of  the  con- 
sciousness of  unity.  There  is  a  vast 
amount  of  specialized  effort,  but  an  im- 
perfect sense  of  aggregate  power.  Indi- 
viduals devoted  to  good  causes  are  igno- 
rant of  one  another,  and  of  any  common 
purpose. 

It  is  possible  that  in  a  community  in 
which  there  are  multitudes  of  right-minded 
persons  the  public  life  may  be  corrupt. 
The  forces  of  corruption  are  united  and 
conscious  of  their  strength,  the  forces  of 
righteousness  are  divided. 

How  can   the   sense   of  spiritual  and 

moral  union  be  brought  about?     Here  is 

need  of  an    organization  not   for   special 

ends,  but  for  those  which  in  their  nature 

182 


How  Religion  is  Organizing  Itself 

are  universal.  There  must  be  a  thought 
large  enough  to  take  in  all  men  in  all  their 
relations,  there  must  be  a  fellowship  based 
on  permanent  affinities,  there  must  be  a 
harmony  deeper  than  any  mere  agreement 
in  opinion.  Let  each  man  do  his  own 
proper  work  in  his  own  way,  but  let  all 
have  a  glad  consciousness  that  they  are 
members  one  of  another. 

There  is  one  institution  which,  when 
freed  from  its  accidental  limitations,  may 
form  a  basis  for  a  fellowship  which  is 
broadly  human.  The  church  at  present 
divides  :  the  ideal  church  will  unite.  I  have 
said  that,  to  do  the  work  needed  by  the 
modern  world,  the  Church  must  be  freed 
from  its  accidental  limitations.  These 
limitations  are  indeed  the  very  things 
upon  which  our  churches  often  most  pride 
themselves.  They  put  forth  exclusive 
claims, —  claims  to  an  exclusive  revelation, 
to  exclusive  sanctity,  to  a  constituency  of 
elect  souls.  In  all  this  they  are  shut- 
ting the  door  against  more  religion  than 
183 


The  Understanding  Heart 

they  admit.  They  abdicate  the  great 
place  of  power  in  order  to  gratify  a  petty 
pride. 

Let  the  Church  give  up  every  exclusive 

1  claim.  Its  real  glory  is  in  its  inclusive- 
ness.  It  belongs  to  God's  good  world. 
It  is  vitally  related  to  the  whole  of  hu- 
manity. It  belongs  to  all  men,  and  stands 
ready  to  serve  them  in  their  need.  It  is 
a  brotherhood  based  on  what  is  broadly 
human,  on  an  inner  faith,  and  not  on  a 
formulated  opinion,  on  a  hunger  and  thirst 
for  righteousness,  and  not  on  a  conven- 
tional standard,  on  the  heart's  sincere  de- 
sire, and  not  on  a  particular  attainment. 
It  issues  its  broad  invitation  to  "who- 
soever will,"  because  it  is  the  allegiance  of 
the  will  that  it  desires.  Amid  all  the 
diversity  of  gifts  and  varieties  of  useful 
activity,  the  men  whose  wills  turn  to 
truth  and  righteousness  should  form  one 
firm  fellowship. 

To  many  religious  persons,  secularism 

i  is  a  bugbear.     It  seems  to  be  the  antith- 

V  184 


How  Religion  is  Organizing  Itself 

esis  of  the  spiritual.  When  one  consults 
the  dictionary,  he  finds  this  idea  em- 
bodied in  one  definition  :  "  Secular :  of  or 
pertaining  to  the  things  of  time  and  this 
world,  and  disassociated  from  or  having 
no  concern  with  religious,  spiritual,  or 
sacred  matters  or  uses." 

This  usage  expresses  a  common  opin- 
ion, but  the  free  church  of  the  twentieth 
century  denies  its  validity.  It  asserts  the 
necessity  for  a  nobler  secularism.  It  re- 
turns to  the  primary  signification  of  the 
word:  "Secular:  going  on  from  age  to 
age ;  accomplished  or  taking  place  in  the 
course  of  ages ;  continued  through  an  in- 
definite but  long  period ;  not  recurrent  or 
periodical,  but  permanent." 

In  this  sense  the  Church  is  an  organiza- 
tion which  is  pre-eminently  secular.  It 
has  to  do  with  permanent  interests  and 
principles.  It  interprets  the  life  of  to-day 
in  the  light  of  the  experience  of  past  ages, 
and  it  prepares  for  the  ages  that  are  to 
come.  It  has  to  do  with  time  and  the 
185 


The  Understanding  Heart 

things  of  this  world,  and  its  assertion  is 
that  these  things  cannot  be  disassociated 
from  the  spiritual  and  the  sacred. 

The  nobler  secularism  which  sees  in 
this  world  the  field  of  divine  activities, 
and  in  the  necessary  work  of  man  the 
opportunity  for  spiritual  development, 
and  in  new  moral  issues  the  call  for  self- 
sacrifice,  is  needed,  if  civilization  is  to  be 
preserved. 

The  so-called  secularism  which  is  in 
reality  blind  to  what  is  permanent  has 
shown  itself  incompetent  to  deal  with  the 
complicated  conditions  of  modern  life. 
We  cannot  live  without  ideals  and  hopes, 
and  without  the  worship  of  that  which  is 
beyond  our  present  attainment. 

When  the  men  who  in  their  own 
hearts  cherish  high  ideals  recognize  their 
social  responsibility,  they  will  see  the  ne- 
cessity of  an  inclusive  organization  of 
those  who  are  conscious  of  common 
needs,  common  purposes,  common  as- 
pirations. It  is  not  for  the  purpose  of 

186 


How  Religion  is  Organizing  Itself 

gratifying  the  desire  for  good  fellowship. 
It  is  in  order  to  accomplish  a  work  that 
can  only  be  done  when  great  multi- 
tudes with  understanding  hearts  work 
together. 


187 


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